


Sonder

by LacePendragon



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Autism, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Challenged Bigotry, Characters of color, Chronic Illness, Coming of Age, Disability, F/F, Friendship, Long, M/M, Mild Ableism, Mild Transphobia, Misgendering, Multi, Mystery, Original Pokemon Region, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pokemon Death, Pokemon Journey, Pokemon Trainers, Pokemon Training, Pokemon Violence, Queer Characters, Queer Themes, Slow Burn, Trans Characters, Violence, Worldbuilding, non-binary characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 91,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacePendragon/pseuds/LacePendragon
Summary: Ad astra per aspera— to the stars through hardshipSixteen-year-old Jude Farr loves Pokémon but has no interest in being a Pokémon trainer. The Pokémon League has too many people, too much noise, and is filled with a toxic, competitive atmosphere that threatens to suffocate all those who don’t measure up. But when given the choice between a job in their small town or a year to wander the region on a Pokémon journey, Jude chooses the latter.Their goal is simple: avoid the competition, and the trainers, and spend the year exploring the Altera region, enjoying the quiet, and trying to understand what it is they really want in life. But their plans are quickly waylaid by a handful of trainers determined to defy Jude’s expectations, including the younger sibling of the current Champion and a wannabe Pokémon anthropologist with no sense of self-preservation.These aren’t the only interruptions to Jude’s plans, either. Strange happenings across Altera start to disturb Jude’s world, and Jude finds themself delving into these mysteries to determine their cause. But the deeper they get, the harder it becomes to back out, and the more Jude wants to know just what the person behind it all is after.
Comments: 112
Kudos: 45





	1. Leaving Home

**Author's Note:**

> It’s finally here! The story of Sonder in the Altera region. Sonder is a story I’ve been working on for a while and I am very excited to get it out to everyone. This might be the hardest I’ve worked on a fic opening in a long time, because of the nature of the story. Sonder focuses on original characters in an original region, in the world of Pokémon. There’s no familiar characters to draw you in, and so I was determined to make an opening that drew people in and made them want to keep reading.
> 
> I hope you’re one of them!
> 
> This story focuses on queer, disabled characters on a Pokémon journey, with many mysterious elements to tie it all together. I wanted to do something familiar, but different, in Pokémon journey fics, and I played a lot with characters to do so.
> 
> Basically, I’m hype. So I hope you’re all hype, too. Thanks for reading!
> 
> The map for Altera was originally sketched by me and made digital and awesome by the lovely Theo_Sev of Tumblr, who is one of my favourite people. Thank you Theo!

The whistle of the passenger train and the squeal of its brakes drew Jude from their half-dozing against the window. They jolted, wincing at the noise, and looked around as the train decelerated and screamed to a halt. It wasn't possible that they'd already arrived in Duskport. The train ride was over three hours and Jude had been dozing for perhaps an hour at most.

Around Jude, the handful of other passengers in the car murmured to each other and themselves, leaning forward or standing to peer at the door that lead toward the front of the train. Jude didn't bother to move. They unfolded their arms and petted Rex, their Growlithe, who was resting his head in Jude's lap.

The cushions of the booth seats in the train car were comfortable. The end-of-June, afternoon sun shone through the window and warmed Jude's skin. And the train car smelled vaguely of vanilla and cinnamon, though Jude didn't know why. It was a cozy place to rest, and a good way to spend the long journey from Myrtleport to Duskport. Far more comfortable than the old, worn down bus that Jude had been forced to take from their hometown of Furrowbury to the town of Myrtleport, that morning.

The floor had been sticky, the bus driver rude, the radio crackly and too loud, the toilet had been out of order, and it had smelled far too strongly of cabbages. Not Jude's idea of a good morning.

Whatever was going on with the train, someone would be through to tell them shortly. Worrying endlessly wasn't going to solve anything, and getting up from their comfortable spot wouldn't help.

As if on cue, the train car door opened and a well-dressed man who presumably worked for the train stepped in.

“Excuse me. Can I have your attention, please?” he called. Jude turned their head to look over their shoulder and toward the front of the car. “We have an issue. There are aggressive Pokémon on the tracks that we cannot move. These are grass-type Pokémon. If there are any rangers or trainers on board with fire-type Pokémon, we would appreciate your help.”

There was a long moment of silence before the murmuring started up again. Rex lifted his head and cocked it at Jude, who sighed.

“All right, all right,” they murmured to him. They nudged him and he hopped up, dropping under the table to allow Jude to slide out of the booth. They stood and faced the employee, drawing the attention of everyone in the train. Jude was used to the attention. They were tall and they knew many found them intimidating, due to their often flat expression and somewhat broad, muscular form. It was something their father had had to explain to Jude, after their last growth spurt. That people assumed the worst of those bigger than them.

Jude didn't understand. But then, neurotypical people had never made much sense to them.

“I'm a trainer,” said Jude, leaving off the _unfortunately_ that threatened to slip off their tongue, “and I have a Growlithe. I'll help.” Technically, they weren't a trainer _yet_. Their license wouldn't activate until after the opening ceremony for the League season, tomorrow morning. But no one else needed to know that.

“Thank you,” said the man, with a nod. “Please, follow me.” He turned and left the car, passing through the door. Jude followed, careful not to look back at the other passengers. The ones who watched Jude already had wary looks, and Jude was already sick of them.

These people were scared, Dad would have said. You are strong, and capable, and your voice carries. They look to you for help.

But Dad wasn't here, and attention was like a slimy second skin that clung to Jude and destroyed all the peace their resting had given them. The bus, the hustle and bustle of Myrtleport, the dislike of leaving home, and now the looks of timid, scared people. It was all too much.

Jude glared at the group of teens at the front of the car, who were whispering and pointing at Jude, as they passed. They weren't _that_ weird looking. Hell, they weren't even six feet tall - just under - and while they were built to climb rocks, they didn't look like a body builder or a superhero.

It was the flat expression. It was the multitude of scars on their hands and forearms. It was their eyes - so dark they were black, removing the distinction between iris and pupil.

Soulless, old Mrs. Witherwood used to whisper, making the symbol of Arceus whenever Jude passed. The pastor at Furrowbury - Jude's hometown's - only church had agreed. Jude and Dad had stopped attending church when Jude was a child for a reason.

The teens stopped for a moment, but they started again. They were probably the same age, sixteen and a bit, in Jude's case, but they felt a lifetime away. Most teens did. Jude had never understood people their own age.

They followed the man through to the next train car, and then the next. He opened the outside door in the third car and gestured for Jude to step out first. Jude raised an eyebrow at that. Shouldn't adults go first? He was more experienced than Jude. Or, maybe he thought Jude was older than they looked. It wasn't uncommon.

Plus, he didn't seem to have a Pokémon on him, which Jude thought was strange. What kind of person didn't have a Pokémon?

Jude stepped out of the car and down the short steps, dropping down onto the gravel that lined the sides of the train tracks. They were one car back from the engine, and the engine car door was open as well. The conductor leaned out, his gaze going from Jude to Rex at their feet.

“You a ranger?” asked the conductor. His voice was the country drawl of southeast. Roanside, probably. Maybe Sugardale. His glaze flicked up and down Jude in a way that Jude had learned meant they were being sized up. Judging by the raise of his eyebrows and the purse of his lips, he was impressed with what he saw.

Jude whispered a silent 'thank-you' to their body language guide, which was on the ereader in their bag, back on the train.

“Trainer,” said Jude, with more confidence than they felt. Hopefully, Rex would be able to handle whatever grass-types were on the tracks. They would be weaker than Rex, on principle, but Rex was a pet turned trainer Pokémon, and that was recent. The best attacks he knew were Ember and Iron Tail. If the grass-types were strong enough to worry the train staff…

It would probably be fine.

“Right,” said the man, nodding. “We got a couple of pissed off Parasect on the tracks. Can't risk attacking them with anything we got. They might spore and then we're hosed if something else happens.” He looked at Rex, then at Jude again. Jude focused on a spot over his shoulder - close enough to his eyes that he might not notice, but far enough away for Jude to avoid discomfort. “Think you can handle it?”

Jude shrugged. “Parasect?” Highly weak to fire, though their spore abilities might prove a problem. Ember had a good range, and if Rex kept his distance, he'd be able to take them out without being harmed too badly. No Iron Tail, in case they had Effect Spore, but if any had Dry Skin, it would be even easier to drop them.

However, Parasect was an evolved Pokémon, and they were decently strong. Rex wasn't that strong. And why were Parasect even here? This wasn't their native area. They preferred heavily forested areas and the darkness of swamps, or even lush caves. These tracks ran alongside the coast and largely through grassland and areas near beaches. Perhaps the mushroom had an influence?

The man was staring at Jude. A twinge in their shoulder made Jude aware that the other man was, as well. They must have spaced out.

“We can handle it,” said Jude, with a nod. “C'mon, Rex.” They struck off toward the front of the train, Rex at their side.

It wasn't a long walk, and Jude had to pass the conductor as they went.

“Good luck,” he called, before stepping back into the train. Jude gave a quiet huff. Based on what he said, he did have a Pokémon, but he wasn't willing to fight. He'd rather endanger his passengers than try and do it himself. Sure, he'd excused himself by saying he needed to stay safe if something else happened, but what else would happen?

He was a coward. Plain and simple. Both of them were.

The grass around the train was tall, taller than Rex in parts, and Jude hung close to the train tracks to avoid losing him to the grass. Or risking Rex getting ticks or some other bug. The heat of the afternoon sun and the heat dripping off the engine car had Jude sweating through their hat and t-shirt before they got around the front of the train. They pulled off their baseball cap and swept their fingers through their short, dark curls. At least they'd shaved the sides of their head before they left home. That helped. Jude pulled their cap back on, drawing it low over their face. Contrary to popular belief, especially among some of the tourists in Furrowbury, Jude still burnt in the sun if out too long, despite their moderate brown skin. Though, they'd thought their freckles would make that clear.

Some people only saw what they wanted to.

As Jude cleared the front of the train, they came face to face with four Parasect milling about on the tracks. They were throwing spores at the front of the engine car. Probably poison, based on the purple tinge. Jude winced and took a step back. That wasn't good. If they were attacking inorganic things, they might attack Jude. Damn.

What had gotten into them? They were so far away from home and now they were attacking a train?

Jude's foot crunched on the gravel. The four Parasect turned as one. Jude winced.

Then they started screaming. The screeches ripped through Jude's head. They clapped their hands over their ears and winced, ducking their head.

 _No, bad, wrong. Bad, bad, bad._ The noise tore through what calm they had. It clawed at their skull. It dug into their thoughts. It hissed its pain into every inch of Jude until they wanted to scream back.

“Rex!” Jude yelled. “Ember!”

He pushed forward, wincing all the way, then threw his mouth open and spat fire at the Parasect. They scattered, screeches fading, and scrambled for cover. One launched itself at Rex and Rex dove sideways, rolling away from it. Jude took a few steps back, hands dropping to their sides and clenching into fists. Avoid the Parasect, help Rex fight. Easy enough.

“Start with that one,” said Jude. “Stay back and use Ember to target it from afar.” Jude pivoted as a Parasect scuttled by, too close for comfort. Their vision blurred at the edges. Their ears rang. Their head had started to pound and it was already digging into their teeth.

Pain later. Fight now.

Rex dove around the Parasect, firing off fireballs as fast as he could. A few of them managed to land home, but the Parasect were fast, as well. They moved in tandem, as if they could hear each other's thoughts. Maybe they could. Maybe the mushrooms let them.

Jude cheered Rex on as he moved, calling out dodges and attacks as he went. One Parasect went down, its mushroom smoking from the Embers that Rex had landed. Jude ducked as a Parasect spat something at them. It leaned back, preparing to run. Jude bolted sideways and rolled, the gravel digging into their bare arms.

“Rex!” they yelled. _Don't Screech again, don't Screech again._ “Little help.”

Rex turned, leaped over another Parasect, and flipped in midair. His tail glowed and he slammed it into the Parasect running at Jude. Both Pokémon went rolling and tumbling into the grass. As Rex got up, he stumbled, and Jude gasped at the sickly purple aura slowly spreading from Rex's tail and up the rest of his body.

Oh no.

They were running out of time.

 _Rex_ _…_ Had he ever been poisoned before?

Rex spat fire at the Parasect, over and over until it went down and didn't get back up.

Two to go.

Rex stumbled, wincing. He let out a whine and Jude bit the inside of their cheek. _Come on, buddy._

“Howl,” said Jude, mind spinning. If he powered up enough, he could one-shot one of the Parasect, right? Probably not. But it would make it easier.

Rex threw back his head and Jude clapped their hands over their ears just before Rex opened his mouth and howled into the sky. The Parasect stumbled, chattering at one another. Jude grimaced as their head pounded.

Rex stopped and launched himself at the two Parasect. He slid between them, stumbling as he stopped, and spun around as they separated from one another. He spat fire, over and over, alternating between the two, dancing between them even as he flagged and swayed. The Parasect shrieked and scrambled, but they didn't seem to have any proper attacks. And when they threw out their spores, Rex scorched them in midair, until they fell to the tracks and grass as ashes.

The two remaining Parasect shrieked and reared back, claws glowing. _Shit._ Jude took a step back and so did Rex, but he wobbled. Taking a breath, Jude prepared to run for Rex. Maybe they could handle the attack. Maybe their shirt would help.

A shriek from above and Jude clapped their hands over their ears, looking up. A Staraptor streaked by. Its wings glowed and it dove for the Parasect, slamming into both with either wing. They cried out and went rolling. They tumbled into the long grass with their fallen brethren and vanished.

Jude stared. The Staraptor landed on the ground on the other side of the tracks from Jude. It was tall, almost as tall as Jude, and they gapped. Weren’t Staraptor usually shorter than that? A man climbed off the Staraptor. He had dark skin and wore the black and red or the rangers. A red and white checked _keffiyeh_ was fashioned around his head. He smiled and waved at Jude, hurrying over.

“I saw you fighting the Parasect. Are you all right?” he asked, sliding to a stop at the tracks.

Jude let their gaze follow the pattern of his headdress to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

“My Growlithe is poisoned,” said Jude, shame creeping up their throat. A good trainer wouldn’t have let that happen. A good trainer would have protected him. But if Jude was a good trainer, they would have given a damn about the gym challenge. If Jude was a good trainer, then the competition wouldn’t have disgusted them. Annoyed them. Fucking trainers.

Jude was fine the way they were. But they shouldn’t have taken on the Parasect.

Stupid.

“I’ve got some pecha berries you can have,” said the ranger. He called back his Staraptor, which vanished into the Ranger Ball in one hand. The red and black design was distinctive, and in another situation, Jude might have asked what the purpose of Ranger Balls was. Right now, they just wanted to get those berries and get back on the train.

Not a great start to their journey.

What were they even doing out here?

He crossed the tracks to Jude and pulled a pecha berry from the pouch attached to his hip. “Here, the quicker you give it to him, the better off he’ll be.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Jude. They grabbed the berry and hurried over to Rex, dropping to their knees. Gravel dug into their pants as they held the berry out to Rex. He ate it, fast enough that Jude worried he’d choke.

“My name’s Nasir,” said the ranger. “What are you doing out here?”

“Got asked,” said Jude, petting Rex’s fur. The purple tinge was slowly fading, from the front, back. Rex leaned into their hand and closed his eyes, letting out a little whine. “Parasect attacked the train, stopped it. I was the only person with a fire-type who volunteered.”

Nasir hummed. “Volunteer and ask are two different things.”

Jude shrugged.

He sighed. “How about I ride with you? I’d like to talk to that captain, maybe find out what happened. Parasect aren’t native to this area, and I’m curious where they came from.”

Jude shrugged, again. They scooped Rex into their arms and got to their feet, slow and steady. Nasir sighed, again.

“Right then, after you,” said Nasir, gesturing.

Jude headed back to the train, climbing the steps into the car and moving back toward their own car. Nasir followed behind, and Jude heard the murmurs and saw the surprised looks that followed them. Nasir broke off when he saw the employee that had led Jude out, and Jude slipped into their seat, settling Rex on one side of them.

People stared, but Jude didn’t say a word. They slid down in their seat and pulled their hat low over their eyes. For a few minutes, there was only silence and whispers and staring. Rex’s breathing slowly evened out as he leaned against Jude, and Jude didn’t focus on anything except petting his fur and listening to whatever noises he made.

After a few minutes, Nasir slid into the seat across from Jude and leaned on the table. He set a bottle of soda down onto the table and smiled at Jude.

“How is he?” asked Nasir.

Jude shrugged. “Fine.” A pause. “Getting better, I mean. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Nasir smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Jude.” They hesitated a moment, then, “They/them.”

“He/him,” replied Nasir. “And good to meet you.”

Jude shrugged.

“Are you a trainer?”

“Will be, tomorrow.”

“So, you’re joining the League?” asked Nasir, cracking open his soda. The bottle was already sweating from the sunlight bearing down on it through the window. Jude watched his hands, which were rough, calloused, and scarred, but held a gentleness that spoke of his ability to soothe Pokémon and people alike, as he trailed his thumb through the condensation.

No wasted water, Jude supposed.

“Yeah. In the opening ceremony and everything,” said Jude. They watched Nasir’s expression at the top of their gaze, never lifting their head nor meeting his eyes. He sat sideways on the bench seat of the booth, back pressed into the wall and the window, one arm on the table, one leg bent up at the knee. His boot was on the seat, then. How much dirt was he getting on it? Did he even care?

Conversation around them was low. Lower than it had been, before. People listening in. People curious why a ranger was spending time with a newbie, a weirdo, like Jude.

As if Jude hadn’t just helped them all at the cost of themself.

Jude stroked Rex’s fur. He dozed, half in their lap, his head curled against their stomach. He was cooler than usual, but the purple sheen had vanished entirely from his fur and muzzle. When the train stopped in Duskport, Jude would take him to a Pokémon Centre. It would delay them into Dawnmere by a few hours, but they’d rather arrive at midnight in the unfamiliar city than let Rex suffer a minute longer than necessary.

“Fancy yourself the next Champion?” asked Nasir. He had a drawl that wasn’t native to Altera. Closer to the specific cadence of the northern Sinnoh citizens. Or maybe a touch of Kalos. Posh, Jude supposed, but in a rough, worn-out sort of way.

Jude snorted. “Not likely. Don’t even want to challenge the gyms.” They cast a glance out the window and watched the shoreline rush by. At this speed, they couldn’t make out any details, but the ocean was beautiful, and Jude wanted to spend days on the beach, this summer.

“Oh?” Nasir cocked his head. His gaze flicked up and down Jude, sizing them up. Jude tensed. “Huh. Why join the League then?” He dug into the bag at his feet with one arm and pulled out a bag of grapes. “Most people on journeys are looking for something.” He opened the bag and tossed a grape into his mouth. “If not gym badges, then what’s in it for you?”

Jude sighed. That was the question they’d been asking themself since their father had given his ultimatum, months ago. Journey, or job. Travel, or stay with him and work at the clinic. They’d spent their whole life at Dad’s vet practice and hadn’t relished in the idea of spending the rest of their life there. Not that it was bad, but because it didn’t call to them. Plus, Furrowbury wasn’t exactly their idea of a perfect home. Too many small-minded nitwits.

Yet, why train? Trainer culture was toxic and horrifying, driving people to risk themselves and their Pokémon for what? A chance at greatness? The same Champion for eight years, now. What made any new trainer think they could take Genevieve Harrow? Why hurt yourself to go for something that wasn’t possible? For something people told you that you _had_ to want? And it wasn’t as though the other League spots were ones people went for, when they became trainers. Hell, Jude couldn’t even name most of them.

“I guess… that’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Jude, drumming their fingers on the table. “I’m only sixteen, but it feels like everyone else around me knows what they want already.” Even if that want was impossible. Even if they were all delusional. Jude stared out the window. There were trees now, spread out but there all the same. The big, arching branches and trunks that curved toward the beaches and the sky all at once. “That’s what journeys are for, right? Figuring yourself out?” Jude shrugged. “Maybe I’ll find what I want, out there.”

Nasir hummed. “It’s worth a shot.”

With a grimace, Jude scrubbed one hand over their face. “Right, you probably don’t actually care. You’re just being polite.” That was how it worked. People made small talk. Small talk was supposed to be small, not philosophical.

Nasir shook his head, moving his keffiyeh as he did. “Not at all. I’m genuinely curious. I often ask new trainers what they want. Obviously, only one person at a time can be Champion, and then there’s twenty-two other main League members. With hundreds of trainers every year, that leaves a lot never reaching their initial dreams. It’s important to know what you’re reaching for, if not that impossibility.”

A snort. Jude shook their head. “Oh, trust me, I have no interest in joining the League. I can’t stand the stupid thing. All those people, trying for something they can’t do. Destroying themselves because the League tells them to. What about their own dreams? Do they really want to be League members, or are they just buying into the same nonsense as everyone else?” Jude looked down at Rex. “I have no interest in putting my Pokémon at risk for nothing. And I have no interest in pretending that ‘nothing’ could be ‘something’.”

Nasir cracked open the bottle of soda and drained half of it in one good. Jude watched the condensation on the bottle move. Droplets that threw tiny rainbows across their surfaces from the phone.

“Maybe,” agreed Nasir, shrugging. “I’m not one to argue against possibility, just likelihood. But I think you have the right idea. Journeying to find out who you are and what you want is important. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something you never thought you would.”

“Considering I have no expectations, that seems likely,” said Jude. Who was this guy? Why wasn’t he arguing with Jude? Everyone always argued. Told Jude that their disdain for the League was basically treason. Was an insult to Altera and its culture, its history, its present. Yet, Nasir agreed. Nasir listened.

Why?

Nasir chuckled. “You know what?” He lifted his bottle into the air as a form of ‘cheers’. “I’ll drink to that. Expectations low and you’re always surprised. But there’s something to be said for excitement, too.”

Jude shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.” It wasn’t that they weren’t excited, only that they didn’t know what to be excited _about._ And if Jude let themself get excited without anywhere to direct it toward, they’d just end up manic, frustrated, and ready for a fight. But there wasn’t a chance they were going to explain that to a man they’d just met. As much as it was nice to connect, Jude remembered their stranger danger classes, both from Dad and from the League as a whole.

Something-something, vulnerable young trainers. Something-something, don’t talk to people who seem too interested in you. But what was too interested? What was too cautious? And how worried did Jude have to be, when they could lift their own weight with one hand and most people were too smart to try anything? And the ones who did didn’t have the brain cells to realize they were out of their league trying to fight Jude.

Pfft. Stranger danger. Something else that didn’t make sense. Something else no one had adapted for the autistic community. All reading body language and facial expressions and tone to find intent. Paying enough attention to people to figure out even a third of that, even a _tenth_ of that, was exhausting, and it could drive day-long headaches into the front of Jude’s head.

Arceus, they had a headache, but they weren’t going to take anything for it while taking to Nasir. It’d pass on its own, in time. And they hated the way people looked at them when they took painkillers over what they perceived to be nothing.

Stupid neurotypicals. Never thinking about how this shit worked for everyone else. Never thinking that other people had different experiences.

Was Nasir a predator? Doubtful. But this was the sort of thing Jude had no cues for. Was he giving off danger signals? Was that why people were watching?

Could rangers be bad guys? That seemed unlikely.

Nasir was watching them. How long had Jude been spaced out? Had they been staring at him? Jude grimaced. _Shit._

“Sorry,” said Jude, the word falling out of their mouth without thought. Jude’s grimace deepened. Stupid shitty reflex.

“You’re fine,” said Nasir. “But I appreciate the thought. Now, if I may change the subject, I’m headed to Dawnmere, so if you’d like company, I’m happy to tag along. I always get lonely when they split up my partner and I.”

Oh right, rangers had partners. Not that Jude had ever met a ranger. Furrowbury was too small for rangers. It had a sheriff and a couple plainclothes police officers, but that was it.

“I’m stopping in Duskport for a while,” said Jude. Was this dangerous? Eh, it was probably fine. Dad was always telling Jude to follow their instincts, even if Jude’s were a little weird compared to most people’s. The classes had just put a new batch of paranoid thoughts into Jude’s heads.

Stupid classes. Jude had known most of the information in them, anyway. Except the city/urban stuff. Which, in their defence — small town, country roads. It made sense for them not to know.

“Ah, fair enough,” said Nasir.

The two continued to chat about little things as they watched the landscape fly by. Time passed faster with company, and Jude kept one eye on Rex as they chatted with Nasir. Rex seemed to be doing fine, but worry brewed in Jude’s chest. How long would it take him to recover? How bad was poison?

Logically, Jude knew that poison was easily recovered from, so long as quick action was taken. But it was different, seeing it in action instead of in a book.

As their nerves brewed under their skin, Jude found themself reaching under the collar of their shirt for their necklace. It had a rubber, chewy ring attached to the black cord. As they reached for it, however, they brushed the second necklace beneath their shirt, one that had joined the first only this morning.

_“Before you go,” Dad had said, holding out the necklace. “I want you to have this. The stone is a piece from… from your mother’s.”_

_“Oh?” asked Jude, gently taking the offered present. They held it close, curiosity for both the necklace and their mother tightening their chest and furrowing their brow._

_“When she evolved her Vulpix, the stone was too big. This is what was left of it.” He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, a smile that Jude often saw reflected back at them on his face. Sheepish, their father had said. Embarrassed, the social skills books all explained in patient, marching letters. But why? “I don’t know if it’s big enough to evolve Rex, but I wanted you to have it. Your mother was a great ranger, and I think she’d be proud to see you as a trainer. So… I wanted you to have a little piece of her with you, while you travel.” His words stumbled over one another and he didn’t look at Jude even in the off-centre way that Jude often looked at other people._

_Jude smiled._ _“Thank you, Dad. I love it.” The two had hugged, clinging tightly, knowing that they might not see each other in person for an entire year, and then had said their goodbyes. And then Jude was off, heading for the bus station in Furrowbury to start their journey to the capital city of Dawnmere._

Jude caught themself smiling, despite their nerves. The necklace was a connection to a mother they barely remembered, having lost her twelve years prior. It was comforting, to have a piece of her with them in the face of this strange, uncertain journey.

They popped the chewy necklace into their mouth and fingered the shard of fire stone wrapped in wire with one hand, listening to Nasir regale Jude with stories of ranger activities throughout Altera.

By the time the train stopped in Duskport, Jude and Nasir had traded numbers on their phones, and they parted ways in the station — Nasir heading for the monorail platform and Jude ready to strike out into the city to find a nearby Pokémon Centre.

Duskport was massive. A city so huge that even this tiny part could barely fit inside Jude’s mind. The train station was multiple stories, with monorails above and below the half a dozen train tracks in Jude’s vicinity. The smell of soggy Kalos fries and slightly overdone beef permeated the area, mixing with the scent of hundreds of bodies. The beef was familiar, at least. Furrowbury was a farming community, with strange, mundane cows eating grass in fields next to Miltank that were milked for potion ingredients. There were plenty of vegetarians and tofu eaters throughout the world, but for those that liked meat in Altera, Furrowbury and the towns surrounding it had them covered. And despite Jude’s dislike of their hometown, they were always proud to be part of the only community on Altera that farmed meat animals alongside Pokémon (because only monsters ate Pokémon, and the law, and everyone’s morals, was very clear about that). It was hard, with how stressed and anxious cows, pigs, and chickens got around Pokémon, but the community had been at it for fifty years, and they had the best meat in the whole region.

Shaking out their thoughts, Jude dug their headphones from their pocket and cranked their music, determined to avoid the cacophony of disjointed voices and announcements that threatened to tear open their mind.

They scooped Rex from the ground and carried him out of the station, ignoring the colourful posters and over-bright fake plants all around. The terracotta tile floors beneath their feet were hard and unforgiving, digging at their already wearing patience.

Where was a Pokémon Centre?

A map near the exit — or was it the entrance? — held the answers. People streamed around Jude, some glancing at them but most ignoring them. They talked on their phones or ate their handheld foods or travelled with their partner Pokémon at their sides. There was a variety to them that Furrowbury lacked. A Zubat upon the shoulders of a young girl. A Sandshrew shuffling along next to an elderly man with a walker (the man, not the Sandshrew, though wasn’t that a mental image worth exploring?). Several Machop scurried back and forth, their arms full of concrete and bricks and boards. Construction somewhere in the station, too far for Jude to hear above the crowds and their music.

They squinted at the digital map, which stuck out of the ground like an inorganic tree. A helpful marker stated ‘you are here’, and Jude shifted close to the map to tap the Pokémon Centre icon to see where the nearest one was. Jude wanted their arms free, but they were too worried to call Rex back into his ball. They couldn’t remember if it was safe to do so, in this situation.

Probably. Pokéballs were designed for this sort of thing. But probably wasn’t good enough and panic fogged their usually crisp knowledge base.

A pin dropped onto the map, dotted lines rising up between the marker and the pin. The nearest Pokémon Centre was a five minute walk away.

“Right,” murmured Jude, mostly into Rex’s fur. “Let’s go.”

Outside the station, Duskport exploded in size and light and noise and smell. The honking of cars, the whistling of wind, the calling of people. The taste of steam on their tongue, strange and tasteless as it might seem. Unfamiliar smells but some of them distinctive. The heavy sent of salt in the air and the rancid smell of fish — both fresh and rotting — assaulted Jude the moment they breathed.

And the buildings, oh the buildings. Jude wasn’t scared of heights. They climbed rocks, for Arceus’ sake; sometimes freehand, just because they could. But these buildings were something else. They were stone and glass and wood and metal. They were both short and squat and tall and spiralling. Some of them weren’t that tremendous, but there were others, so many others, that went so high into the air that Jude dared to think that if they reached the top, they’d see above the clouds.

They stumbled, head tilted so far back to watch the buildings that they lost their balance. Around them, the crowd of people parted as if Jude were a river rock, unimportant but for the temporary spread of flow.

Metaphors.

Jude liked metaphors. But only when they were the one making them.

Then they knew exactly what those metaphors meant.

With a deep breath, Jude struck off toward the Pokémon Centre, trying to keep their head. Rex clung close to Jude, just as unused to crowds as they were. At least people were fast. They moved with a pace that still wasn’t fast enough for Jude, but leagues better than the unhurried mosey that so many back home had committed themselves to.

The buildings kept getting taller. The crowds thickened as Jude moved away from the train station. Salt and fish continued their assault, stronger as the winds shifted to blow between the buildings. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Living in the shadow of Misty Cove had acclimatized Jude to the smell of sea salt. It was beautiful and lovely and Jude adored waking up to that smell.

But fish. They _despised_ fish. Fish was the worst of all foods. The smell, the taste, the texture. Not to mention how many grocery stores the damn fresh fish counters ruined. Urgh.

It didn’t take long to reach the centre, and Jude breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped from the hot, crowded streets of the city and into the air-conditioned lobby of the clean, welcoming Pokémon Centre.

There were maybe a dozen people in the Pokémon Centre, most of them sitting on the various couches that were spread about one side of the waiting area. The other side had a children’s play area and a window that looked into a small kitchen, where several staff members milled about. Jude’s eyebrows rose at the sight. A take-out cafe in a Pokémon Centre? That seemed… strange. Odd. Unfamiliar, maybe?

The counter area, directly opposite to the doors and far enough back for a decent sized line, had two Nurse Joys on duty. They wore the customary white outfit and hat with pink first aid symbols. Each wore a name tag. As Jude approached, they noticed the name tags had a spot for pronouns.

The nurse to the left, away from Jude, tapped away at the computer, her brow furrowed. She had dark hair pulled into a bun that changed the shape of her nurse hat, and her name tag read ‘Bridgette’. The Nurse Joy that smiled at Jude was a tall, broad man with pale skin, rosy cheeks, and a name tag that read ‘Leon’.

“Hi, welcome to the Pokémon Centre,” said Nurse Leon, beaming at Jude as they stepped up to the counter. “My name is Leon and I’ll be happy to serve you today. What can I do for you?”

Jude shifted Rex in their arms and settled his feet on the counter. He laid down on it and yawned. “My Growlithe was poisoned by a Parasect’s ability. I gave him a pecha berry, but I wanted him to get checked out.” The words tumbled awkwardly from their mouth, tripping over one another. They grimaced, gaze flitting to the big flat screen TV behind the counter. It played a muted advertisement for the Pokémon League, subtitles scrolling along the bottom of the screen. They’d never really been in a Pokémon Centre before. Dad handled everything back home. Often with a lot less tech than even this lobby had.

“Of course. Let me take a look at him,” said Nurse Leon. He examined Rex with deft fingers and a focused gaze, moving through tools that Jude recognized. A stethoscope, for one, and several others. They watched with a tight chest and hands clenched behind their back, trying not to worry a spot through their cheek. Sure, Dad had trained them on a lot, but it was different, when it was Rex. No slap-dash field medicine was good enough for him, just like it wasn’t good enough for Dad’s patients.

Except it wasn’t the same. Because this was Rex.

“Well, it seems he’s having a bit of trouble taking deep breaths,” said Nurse Leon, “and I’d wager he’s exhausted. We can give him some medicine and put him in a healing chamber, if that’s all right with you.”

Jude nodded. “Yes, that would be great, thank you.”

“All right. I’ll just need his Pokéball,” said Nurse Leon. Jude pulled it off their belt and expanded it into their hand. They passed it off to Nurse Leon, who patted Rex on the head. “All right, buddy. Time to go to sleep for a bit. Ready?”

Rex looked at Jude and gave a little whimper, ears swinging around and flattening to his head. Jude stepped forward and pressed their forehead to Rex’s, rubbing his head and ears with their fingers.

“You’ll be okay. The nurses here are great. I’m sure of it. They’ll make you feel better,” they whispered into Rex’s fur. He licked Jude’s face and relaxed a touch, before sitting on the counter and waiting for Nurse Leon. The nurse called Rex back into his Pokéball and nodded.

“Shouldn’t take more than an hour and a half,” said Nurse Leon. “Be right back.” With that, he turned and headed back through a swinging door into the back. On the TV, the screen switched to a list of Pokémon currently in healing. There were seven, and all of them had various timers. Jude waited with held breath to see when Rex would appear.

“An hour and a half?” came an indignant voice from Jude’s left. Jude jerked, eyes wide as they turned. A tanned boy, almost as tall as Jude, glared at them. He wore clothes that gave off a vibe of being too new to be worn, and his face was pinched and cold. “What gives you the right to faster service that me?” he sneered. With a scoff, he turned toward the other Nurse Joy and scowled, slamming an open hand onto the counter. “Did you lie to me to stall my progress?”

The nurse sighed. She glanced at Jude and then to the boy. “No, Mr. Mèinn, we didn’t lie to you. Your Pokémon are in far worse shape than this trainer’s. You also have two, instead of one. While in-Pokéball healing in the chambers can be done simultaneously, exams and distribution of medicine must be done in sequence.”

He huffed. “Well then, you could have assigned more nurses to my team. My team is far more important than—” He stopped, gaze flicking up and down Jude in an all-too-familiar way. “His?” he guessed.

Jude frowned. “Theirs,” they corrected, folding their arms over their chest.

The boy rolled his eyes and waved them off. “Whatever. My team is more important. I demand you change this immediately.” Jude gritted their teeth. What an absolute—

“We can’t,” said Nurse Bridgette, pitching the bridge of her nose. “Your Pokémon suffered from a bad burn. Not only that, but you didn’t apply medicine in the field, so the burn worsened on the way here. We simply can’t heal your Pokémon any faster than we already are.”

The boy whipped around and glared at Nurse Bridgette, who gave him a flat look.

“Furthermore, as you do not currently possess an active trainer license, you shouldn’t be participating in such dangerous battles, nor should you have more than one Pokémon.” Nurse Bridgette’s tone was so flat that even Jude could tell the intent. They bit the inside of their cheek, torn between arguing with the boy over his dismissal of Jude’s correction and grinning at Nurse Bridgette’s no-nonsense attitude.

“I assure you that I am above such rules,” said the boy, lifting his head, “and I will not stand for such slander to my good name.” He narrowed his gaze at Jude. “And this one must not have an active trainer license, either? So why does…” He paused and Jude ground their teeth. He knew their _fucking_ pronouns. He was just being an ass. “Why does he get a pass?”

Jude moved before they realized they’d decided to. They backed the boy up to the edge of the counter and loomed over him, lifting up as high as they could. They squared their shoulders and narrowed their eyes.

“My pronouns are they/them, and my name is Jude. My Growlithe is injured because the train to Duskport was stopped by Parasect and I was the only person on board with a fire-type. I helped and my partner was injured for it,” they said, words clipped, voice hard. What was it their social skills books said? Anger wasn’t an answer. Anger wasn’t appropriate.

Fuck the books. They were done.

“I don’t see why any of this is my problem,” said the boy, lifting his chin. “And you’re in my space. I’ll ask you to leave.”

Jude grinned. “Make me.”

The boy’s eyes went wide. His gaze flitted up and down Jude, face turning paler with each passing second. The weight of other gazes clung to Jude, including the nurse. The swinging door opened and Nurse Leon appeared in Jude’s peripheral vision.

“Hey there, trainer. What’s going on?” asked Nurse Leon. He stepped up next to Nurse Bridgette and beamed. “Your Growlithe is all started in the healing chamber. Gave him a shot of antivenin, too. He should be good to go in about an hour and a half. Why don’t you get a sandwich from the cafe window and take a seat?”

Jude took a step back from the boy and turned to Nurse Leon, expression softening. They gave both nurses an apologetic smile. “Thanks. Sorry.”

“Well, now—” started the boy.

“Not you,” said Jude, without looking at him. He sniffed and stalked off, slamming the doors open with his palms as he left. Jude winced, realizing, now, that most people were staring at them. They put their back to the waiting area and looked at the nurses. Both were shorter than them. Huh. “Sorry,” they said, again.

“I’ll let it slide,” said Nurse Bridgette, with a sigh. “You have every right to be upset with him. Though I ask you take the fight outside, next time.”

Nurse Leon shook his head. “We see a lot of tension and high nerves, here. I hope you can relax. We’ll let you know when Rex is ready to go.”

Jude nodded. “Thanks,” they mumbled, embarrassment flushing through their body and burning their face and ears. Arceus, why had they done that? Now everyone was staring and the nice nurses thought they were an angry asshole.

Stupid.

Jude shuffled over to the cafe window, got a sandwich, and settled down on the couch furthest from the rest of the trainers to wait.

It wasn’t a long wait, despite it all. Jude read through some pages on the Pokédex app, sent a text to their dad, and studied the monorail schedule until their eyes wanted to cross. Anything to keep them from thinking too hard about Rex, behind the staff-only doors.

But time passed. And it wasn’t the worst wait, and by the time it was over, Jude was prepared for the rest of their day.

“Jude Farr?” called Nurse Leon, when the time ran down. Jude got to their feet and shuffled to the counter, embarrassment still hot on their ears. “He’s all ready. Here.” Nurse Leon held out Rex’s Pokéball and Jude cradled it close, releasing Rex onto the floor before shrinking and setting the ball back onto their belt.

“Hey, buddy,” said Jude, crouching down to hug him close.

“Everything went well. He’s all healed and has no permanent damage. Bridgette told me what you said about how he got injured, and the train company confirmed your story. You’re free to get going.” Nurse Leon smiled at them. “Try not to get into anymore trouble, all right?”

Jude stood again and nodded to him. “Right. Thank you. Come on, buddy, let’s go.” Jude and Rex left the Pokémon Centre and headed toward the monorail station.

Onward to Dawnmere. It’d be almost midnight before they got there, but Rex was fine, the sandwich had been good, and as much as Jude couldn’t stop thinking about their run-in at the Pokémon Centre, and how strange the day had been, it hadn’t been awful.

Life outside Furrowbury was proving to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter. If you enjoyed it, I'd really appreciate hearing from you! What did you think of Jude? What about Altera? The opening? Let me know. But don't worry if you can't. No pressure.
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> If you want to see the full-sized image, [click here!](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7bdaa6bf443a59d9c4e39678c1237392/6dc730afe06c4f74-b5/s1280x1920/a48a6527ef3d42cd3351ce97bf6d2be5619bf50e.png)
> 
> And feel free to check out my Tumblr at LacePendragon.tumblr.com.


	2. Dawnmere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude arrives in Dawnmere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh. I'm so glad people are liking the fic so far. Thank you for the support! Bit of a slow start, but I promise it'll get faster as we go, and slow doesn't mean not interesting. I find it all very interesting.
> 
> Cheers!

Monorails, Jude decided sometime in the first hour, were fucking terrible, and if Jude never had to take another one, they would die happily. Too fast, too whooshy, and far too crowded. By the fiftieth kilometre, Jude was queasy. By the hundredth, Jude wanted to strangle the gaggle of teenager girls gossiping about… what Jude assumed was some kind of boy band, and not secretly a cult, about ten feet to their left. At least they had Rex to take up the other seat in the two-seat row Jude was crammed into. When getting on, whenever someone had come too close, he’d lifted his head and growled. That, combined with the bandage around his leg, and the glare on Jude’s face, had kept people at a distance.

At least there was enough leg room to put their bag between their knees. Otherwise, Jude might have completely lost it in the over three hour trip by stupid _fucking_ monorail.

Next time, they were taking the bus. Or hitchhiking. Or jumping on a cargo train and riding in one of the grain cars. Anything was better than this speedy, shiny, bastard of a tin can.

It was just passed eleven-thirty when the monorail finally pulled into the station in Dawnmere. The stars were bright, brilliant, but they were nothing compared to the stars back home. The city lights burned out some of the darkness, leaving the sky competing for a reason to light the way. The moon, a pale sliver of a crescent, hung high in the sky, lonely in its nightly vigil.

Jude waited for the section to empty out before swinging their bag onto their back and following out with Rex. He stayed close to their heel, his head twitching back and forth at every noise. His ears were flat, his lips curled back. A headache tightened the muscles in Jude’s jaw and around their ears, blurring the edges of their vision.

“Right. Hotel,” muttered Jude, digging for their phone in their pockets. What was it called again? It was in their notes app. Something with… it was Pokémon related? Weather related? Something. Sunrise! Sunrise Hotel on 4th Street. It was down the street from the stadium, wasn’t it?

Now… where was it?

The maps app wasn’t helpful. The crisscrossing lines of the map did little to sort out the city beyond the station, creating a horrific web of confusion and bright lines that left Jude swallowing hard, chest tight and eyes wide despite their exhaustion. Shit. This… wasn’t going well.

Taking a deep breath, Jude lowered their phone and looked at the doors out of the station. The long wall of glass held a heavy glare from the fluorescent lights that hung above Jude, bearing down on them. Tinny music piped through unseen speakers added to the strange, not-quite-real feeling of the situation. There was no one else around. The next train, according to the glowing screens clinging to the wall brackets, wasn’t for another hour.

Was it safe to be in a monorail station this late at night? Of course, it was. This was Altera. There wasn’t any terrible crime in Altera. That belonged to the big cities of Unova, to the shady markets of Hoenn, and to the mountain-dwelling people of Sinnoh. Altera didn’t have those sorts of people. The region’s publicly available crime rate and statistics spoke to that.

Still, Jude moved toward the doors, Rex at their side and phone clenched in knuckle-white fingers.

The doors to the station slid open, swapping the artificial staleness of the air conditioned station for the warmer, slightly humid air of the Dawnmere night. No salt to this air, instead there was a hint of garbage, from nearby bins, and the sharpness of the blossoming trees that lined the walkway down to the sidewalk.

If Duskport had been big, then Dawnmere was enormous. On paper, it was twice the size physically, with over twice the population. Modern architecture that overwhelmed history, but wasn’t without its charm, or so the brochures said. The lowest unemployment rate of any city in Altera.

But paper was nothing to being there in person, even at night, even with the streets as empty as they’d probably ever be.

The main monorail station was in the hub of the city. Outside, it was surrounded by skyscrapers that made the ones in Duskport look like squat cottages. They hugged the sky, their upper lights setting the stars to shame. What was the purpose of such height, other than to make those who stared up at them dizzy beyond belief?

The world swayed as Jude stared, calculating how high the buildings were by how many windows ran up one column of glass and steel and concrete. But the windows were joined and the steel frames almost invisible in the night. Could Jude count by the lights? Perhaps, but it was late, and Jude was tired, and these buildings were not cliffs or trees and mountains.

They could not be climbed. At least, not with the skill set that Jude possessed. Suction cups? Maybe some kind of suspension rig from the roof? Perhaps, but it wasn’t the same. There was no smell of cedar and fir. No sticky sap and crackling rock fragments pressed to gloved palms and gloveless fingertips.

Already, Jude missed those smells. It would be good to get on the road again.

At ground level, the city looked more manageable. Wide sidewalks pressed close to modern buildings. Sleek, clean streets pockmarked by parked cars and the occasional travelling bus. Benches next to bus stops, gleaming streetlights that leaned over the roads. Flowers in boxes and beds, and trees in little dirt squares that looked like someone had just pulled up a sidewalk tile and left the ground open for the plants. All of it cultivated, all of it clean.

Jude’s work-rough hands and dusty clothes from the Parasect fight did not belong here. They fidgeted with their hands as they moved down the stairs to street level, slow and awkward and uncertain. Where were they going? Were the streets numbered in order?

The street sign at the bottom of the stairs said ‘Orange Street’. Well, there went that idea. How were they supposed to find anything in this city? Did Apple Street exist? Did it come before or after Orange Street? Was it alphabetical or by rainbow? And if Mango Street existed, would it be under green or red or yellow? Were mangoes partially yellow? Orange? Was it just the fading of the green into the red?

Too many questions. Jude needed to focus. Get to the hotel, get to sleep. Stop thinking about the hypothetical organization of fruit-based street names.

Now, if only Jude had any idea how to read the GPS map for a city that was this full of nonsense.

“Excuse me,” came a voice to Jude’s left. Rex went alert at the same time as Jude. Jude glanced down at Rex. It was either a result of the poisoning and the healing, or else whoever had spoken wasn’t anyone to worry about.

Coin-flip.

“Hi,” said the voice, and Jude looked to see a man just a little taller than them, though maybe half as broad. Even in the harsh, white lights of the train station fluorescents and street lamps, his dark skin was warm and his smile only made it warmer. He had dreadlocks, some of them dyed red or orange or yellow, and they were pulled back into a ponytail. They swayed as he moved toward Jude, drawing their gaze until they had to fight not to sway with them.

“Hi,” said Jude, finally remembering to speak. They cleared their throat. “Can I help you?” Oh, that was what he was supposed to say. Maybe. Social interaction was hard. Especially after twelve hours in transportation and so much talking.

So, so much talking.

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you that,” said the man. He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops and leaned back on his heels. “You seem lost. My name’s Nolan. By your Pokémon, I’m guessing you’re a new trainer.” He reached up with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “If you’re lost, I could help you find your hotel. But I don’t want to assume. I get that having a strange man approach you at night in a big city is probably pretty spooky. Sorry.”

Jude blinked. Was it spooky? It didn’t seem all that bad. He was smaller than Jude, even with the little bit of height he had on them. Lacked the muscle and tone that Jude had. What was he doing to do, stab them? Steal Rex? Lead them into a dark alley?

Pfft. Stranger danger. Jude had been working with angry, terrified, and injured Pokémon since they were eight years old. If they could handle a terrified Rhyhorn with a fractured horn, they could handle a skinny dude with a nice smile.

“I don’t see the problem,” said Jude, shrugging. Their voice came out flatter than usual. “I’m Jude.” They held out their hand, even if they didn’t particularly want to.

Nolan shook it, but released it fast. Unlike a lot of people who talked to Jude, he didn’t try and meet their gaze, instead looking at Jude while Jude looked at his dreadlocks.

“Fair enough,” said Nolan. “Can’t say I blame you. Are you a new trainer?”

Jude nodded. “Yeah. I mean, not until tomorrow. Trainer licenses don’t activate until after the opening ceremony, tomorrow.” They rubbed the back of their neck, face heating as they stumbled over their words. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” agreed Nolan, with a smile, but it wasn’t the cruel smiles of some of Jude’s classmates — old classmates? Ex-classmates? — more like the way Dad smiled at Jude when they started repeating themself. Laughing with, instead of at, or so he explained. “Well, would you be okay if I helped you find your hotel, tonight?”

“Sure,” said Jude. They lifted their phone and tapped it open. “I have no idea how to read the GPS.” They turned their phone around and showed it to Nolan. He squinted at it, dark eyes flicking across the screen.

“Oh, yeah, okay. Sunrise Hotel.” He nodded and flashed Jude a smile. “Most of the new trainers stay at Sunrise or Twilight, so that doesn’t surprise me. I stayed at Sunrise when I was a new trainer.”

Jude raised both eyebrows and looked Nolan up and down. They weren’t super good at ages, but they could tell he wasn’t a teenager. “So, what, a million years ago?”

Nolan snorted. “It’s eight years ago, this year, actually.” He rolled his eyes. “But thanks, I appreciate that vote of confidence toward my looks.” He gestured down Orange Street, the opposite way Jude would have gone. Oops. “C’mon, walk and talk?”

Jude tucked their phone in their pocket. “Sure. C’mon, Rex.” They whistled and Rex hopped up from where he was sitting, padding alongside Jude as they walked next to Nolan.

“A Growlithe? That’s an awesome starter. I love fire-types,” said Nolan, stuffing his hands in his pants’ pockets and grinning. He walked with an easy, smooth step that made Jude aware of their own hard, heavy steps. “I actually specialize in them.”

“A specialist trainer?” echoed Jude, tilting their head. “Doesn’t that put you at a disadvantage?” Jude furrowed their brow. “Or telegraph your abilities? If you’re a serious trainer, that seems unwise. Unless, of course, your goal is to stay in the challenge circuit until you’re a grandfather.”

Nolan chuckled. It was a warm sound that distracted Jude from the tall, tightly packed buildings that towered over them both, bearing down with all the weight of the city’s expectations. Greatness, drive, a hunger to be the best. Even if only one person could ever be “the best”. Even if the League was tiny and almost no one would ever end up part of it.

Even if the culture surrounding the gym challenge and the pressure to be the best caused so much burn-out that the internet had enough fuel for Jude to stay up far too late, watching dozens and dozens of videos about the descent of the Pokémon League in the last decade.

“Hey, maybe I wanna be part of the gym challenge for the rest of my life,” said Nolan. “I love being part of it, taking on other trainers, seeing team combinations. It’s all fantastic.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “So, what, you don’t care if you never become something? You’re not part of ‘the grind’,” they used air-quotes, “to become the next Champion?”

“Nah,” said Nolan, lifting one hand to wave the comment off. “I’m content with where I am.”

“As just a trainer?” asked Jude.

“What about being a trainer is ‘just’?” asked Nolan, tilting his head to look at Jude with a raised eyebrow. “We’re a strange bunch, Jude. Why not embrace it?”

Jude looked up at the skies, at the blackness pockmarked by stars fighting for real estate against the lights of a city that never seemed to sleep. At the buildings that loomed and judged and stared, waiting for mistakes, waiting to fall. At the street lamps with their harsh lights, white and glaring and driving a headache behind Jude’s eyes. The smell of garbage faded and the scent of flowers grew. Shop fronts, tucked between the spiralling towers of glass and modern architecture, displayed hand-painted signs with hanging baskets of spilling flowers and vines that latched onto brickwork and support beams and struggled for purchase against the unforgiving cold of smooth steel that pressed in close.

“I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” said Jude. Why embrace something they didn’t want to be? Dad had been the one to insist that Jude should go on a journey. Dad had been the one to sign Jude up for the initial classes passed what was required. Dad had been the one to give Jude an ultimatum when Jude had dragged their feet: take a year, go on a journey, or work, properly, at the vet practice. Full hours, full responsibilities. The idea of spending a year working at Dad’s vet practice without any choice, knowing they’d have to treat patients and deal with customers, knowing they’d have to be nice to the customers, no matter _what_ they said or did, made Jude’s chest hurt. Made the world small and awful and closed.

Maybe Jude didn’t agree with the culture. Maybe Jude didn’t give a damn about the gym challenge or getting badges or training. But spending a year in Furrowbury without being able to speak out against Mrs. Witherwood and the assholes that followed her had left Jude ready to launch themself out a window and sprint for the next bus to Myrtleport.

It’d be an easy decision, if a rigged one. So, a journey it was, even if Jude didn’t plan on making it a traditional one.

“About trainers being strange?” asked Nolan. He watched Jude with a curious, almost concerned look. Jude could point out the bits of his expression from their exercise books. In fact, they could almost picture Nolan as a diagram in one of them. _Social Skills for Autistic Adolescents, Diagram 8-A: Observe the concerned expression of the young adult male. Note the downward turn of the outsides of the eyebrows, the slight frown, the furrow of the brow over the nose, the wrinkle of skin on the forehead, and the widened eyes._

Maybe Nolan should have been a model for those books. His expressions were, to make a joke of it, like an open book. Much better than some of the models and diagrams.

“About embracing it,” said Jude. They shrugged. “Guess I don’t really think much about being part of trainer culture.” Well, close enough, anyway.

Rex rubbed against Jude’s leg as they paused at a corner. Nolan watched the traffic lights and the streets, which had a handful of cars zipping by. And a mostly empty bus that was painted to showcase the upcoming League season. Jude leaned down and scratched Rex between his ears. He nuzzled them.

“Fair enough,” said Nolan. He nodded as the walk sign clicked on. “Come on, we’re almost there.” Nolan led, Jude followed. “I think it’s important, though, to think about how you fit into trainer culture.”

Jude snorted. “I’m not interested in fitting into trainer culture.” The grind, the bullshit, the competition. The way trainers turned toxic toward those who succeeded or moved faster than them, and the way they left behind those who were too slow or not talented enough to ‘cut it’.

No, Jude had no interest in fitting into that nonsense.

“Why not?” asked Nolan. “A year on the road is a huge undertaking, especially on your own. It’s important to make friends, to make connections. It gets lonely out there, and dangerous. You need to be able to rely on more than just your team.”

Jude rolled their eyes. They’d never relied on anyone but their dad and Rex. Why should that change on the road? People sucked. Jude had met one trainer since they’d set out from home and he’d been a stuck-up, transphobic, _knob._ Sure, the ranger had been nice, and so had the Nurse Joys, but they were professionals, not trainers.

There was a difference. Professional and unprofessional people had different expectations. Nasir and Nurse Leon and Nurse Bridgette weren’t nice because they wanted to be nice, they were nice because it was part of their jobs.

Yet, here was Nolan, nice, and just a regular trainer.

Strange.

“I’ll be fine,” said Jude. “Rex and I can handle anything.”

“Okay,” said Nolan. Was he mocking them? Why were people so hard?

Across the street, there was a gaggle of teenagers heading in the same direction as Jude and Nolan. The gaggle chatted, loud enough to carry, but not loud enough to be intelligible. Laughter, shouting, and all matter of other noises. None of them had Pokémon out, which Jude found odd. But then, Nolan didn’t have one out, either, despite the six shrunken Pokéballs that lined his belt.

Huh.

Strange.

Maybe in cities, people didn’t keep their Pokémon out. Maybe only small Pokémon were allowed out. If Rex ever evolved — assuming Jude wanted to evolve him, which they hadn’t decided yet — would he be allowed out in cities?

“Here it comes,” said Nolan. “Straight ahead, on the right.”

Jude drew their gaze across the characterless buildings and tiny store fronts. They found the hotel. Tall and bright, with semi-circle windows above all the square ones. The windows that Jude could see closely were painted to look like little, rising suns. Clever.

There was a curved shelter in front of the hotel, those sort of fabric ones with the name of the hotel on them. It was painted — dyed? — like a sunrise, dark colours at the bottom fading to light at the top. Red into orange into yellowish-pink into palest blue. In the warm, yellow-white lights of the hotel’s entrance, the soft glow of the shelter had Jude relaxing.

Warm coloured bricks, mismatched but matching, if that made any sense. The wooden frames of the windows, beautiful and aged. Stained glass in some of the windows, especially in the upper parts of the first storey, and then more and more higher up.

Old and warm and soft and… everything Jude hadn’t realized they’d needed, missed, since they’d stepped off the bus in Myrtleport. The rest of Dawnmere might have been modern, clean, and a little bit awful, but Sunrise Hotel was _perfect._

“You like it?” asked Nolan, leaning a bit to watch Jude, a little smile on his face. His tone seemed gentler, warmer, now. “It’s pretty great. Probably my second favourite place in Dawnmere.”

“What’s your favourite?” It was probably the stadium. Trainers were all the same. But Jude asked, anyway. Because it was polite. Because no answer would bother them, right now, not when they were starting to feel safe and warm for the first time since they’d left Furrowbury, that morning.

“A little cafe, not far from the stadium. Tucked between two buildings. You’d swear someone just picked it up out of a small town and dropped it into Dawnmere. Looks just like this,” he nodded to the hotel, “but even warmer. If you can believe that.” Jude blinked. Really? It wasn’t the stadium?

He flashed a grin at Jude. “Well, we’ve made it. I think you can get the rest of the way on your own.” He dug out his phone. “You wanna swap deets?”

Oh! Jude blinked again, shaking off the warm feeling of the hotel to focus. “Sure.” They grabbed their phone and held it out. Nolan tapped his to Jude’s and both phones beeped, syncing trainer cards. Jude squinted at Nolan’s. It was mostly empty, listing only his contact info, his age, and his full name alongside his picture. _Nolan Casseus._ Jude lifted their squint to Nolan.

“My info’s locked behind a lot of stuff,” said Nolan, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. “When your license activates tomorrow, you’ll get the rest.” He lifted one hand and smiled. “See you around, Jude, and good luck.”

“Thanks,” said Jude. They waved as he left, then looked down at Jude. “Well, buddy, wanna get some sleep?” He barked and trotted off toward the hotel. Jude followed. Their shoulders hurt, their back ached, and their eyes burned from being awake so long. When had they gotten up? Probably seven in the morning, which meant they’d been awake for, what, almost seventeen hours? Arceus. Not the longest they’d ever been awake, but it felt longer.

Jude crossed the street, careful to watch for cars and lights, and hurried under the shelter and into the hotel. The doors slid open automatically, but even they were different from the sliding doors that adorned other buildings. Old school calligraphy displayed _Sunrise Hotel_ , the symbol — the rising sun — and the year it had been established. The edges of the door were painted gold.

Inside, the lobby was tall and spacious. The waiting area was level with the door and halfway across the room, there were two steps up to the other half of the room, which had the check-in desk, the elevator, and the hallways that split off in various directions. Half of the two-step area was a ramp, instead, and had a railing on both sides.

It smelled of cinnamon and cloves and vanilla. Quiet, new age music came through little wooden speakers scattered throughout the room. The carpet beneath Jude’s feet was plush. The wooden furniture was dark and warm, the fabrics were plush and had subtle patterns that didn’t make Jude’s head hurt, like so many others did.

“Wow,” breathed Jude. They shifted their bag on their shoulders and turned in a slow, small circle. Their eyes were wide and their mouth fell open, a soft exhale escaping them.

Noise. Jude turned and watched as several people strode into the risen part of the lobby, chatting away. Three of the five were dressed professionally. One of the three was dressed like a League official, with clean lines, contrasting fabrics of white and blue, and the League symbol over their heart. Two of the others were dressed like the hotel felt. All dark, warm colours and soft, welcoming comfort. The other two looked related. One was tall and somewhat curvy, with white-blonde hair that fell almost to her waist. She spoke with her hands, with a bright tone and a bright face. Happy, but focused.

Genevieve Harrow. The named popped into Jude’s head as they studied her. The _Champion_ of Altera. Holy shit. What was she doing here? The one next to her might have been the answer. Small, slim, and with a look that spoke to how little they knew about what was going on.

Atop their corded sweater was a heart shaped pendant in the non-binary flag colours. Jude grinned. The person’s gaze met Jude’s and Jude tapped the non-binary button on one of the shoulder straps of their bag. The person’s eyes lit up. Jude mouthed ‘they/them’ and pointed to themself, then pointed at the person and cocked their head to one side.

The person smiled, tiny and shy, and nodded, mouthing ‘they/them’ as well. They looked at Genevieve and the three people she was talking to, looked at Jude, and then hurried over, lips pressed together and eyes wide.

“Hey,” said Jude, nodding. “I’m Jude.”

“I’m Lark,” replied the person, voice as small as the rest of them. This close, Jude got a better look at how small they were. They just barely came up to Jude’s shoulder. They weren’t even half as wide as Jude, and their frame was straight up-and-down, with none of the shape of their sister. Lark had shaggy, off-white hair that hung passed their chin and looking down at them, Jude could just barely see their large eyes, half-hidden behind overgrown bangs.

They were nice eyes. Pastel blue and purple in swirls, like paint that had been half mixed, before someone had forgotten about it.

“Nice to meet you,” said Jude. Rex let out a quiet bark. “Oh, this is Rex. He says hello.”

Lark looked down at Rex and their expression lit up. “Oh, he’s so adorable.” They crouched down in front of him. “Growlithe aren’t that common in Altera. Where did you get him?”

“Nursery, I think,” said Jude. “He was a present from my Dad, so I don’t really remember.” Lark nodded, scratching him behind the ears. Rex leaned into the touch, kicking one of his back legs as he did. “Do you have a partner?”

“I do,” said Lark. “Um… do you want to see her?” Jude had to strain a bit to hear Lark, with the other noises in the lobby, but they tried their best. Maybe Lark didn’t like speaking up. Jude nodded.

Lark pulled a Pokéball from their belt, which was hidden under their creamy sweater, and expanded it to fill their hand. They called out their Pokémon and it solidified into a beautiful, well-groomed Alolan Vulpix.

Jude crouched down in front of the two Pokémon and let out a quiet gasp. Their gaze swept across the Vulpix. Her fur was well brushed, her eyes were bright, and the differently textured hair on her tail and head was gleaming in the yellow-white lights of the lobby.

“She’s beautiful,” said Jude, stroking her fur. “What’s her name?”

“Snowdrop,” said Lark. Their smile seemed easier now — shoulders lowered, lines less prominent around their mouth. “Alolan Vulpix is my favourite Pokémon. When Gen found out, she went to Alola to get one for me. I love Alolan and Galar variants of Pokémon. It’s interesting to me that only two regions have regional variants. I’ve always wondered why it’s those two, as well, but there’s not a lot of research about it and…” Lark trailed off, cheeks bright red. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s cool,” said Jude, smiling. “I like it.”

Lark offered them a tiny, red faced smile in return. “Are you starting the gym challenge tomorrow?” they asked.

Jude shrugged. “Yeah, unfortunately.” They gave a little snort. “Not really my scene, but I passed the classes, so here I am.”

“You don’t want to do the gym challenge?” asked Lark. Their eyes were wide. “Why not?” Lark paused, bit their lip. “I-I mean, if you want to tell me. You don’t have to.” They ducked their head, eyes disappearing behind their bangs.

Jude furrowed their brow, surprised at noticing the disappearing eyes. They didn’t like eyes, but Lark’s were nice looking. And they didn’t narrow in and glare at people, didn’t dissect intention. They just… looked.

“Well—” started Jude, but they were cut off by an unfamiliar voice.

“Lark!” Jude looked up just before Lark did. “I was wondering where you got off to. Oh, hello there, who are you?” Genevieve Harrow. Her voice cheerful and light, but slightly grating in that way loud music was grating.

Jude drew themself back to standing and found they were a few inches taller than Genevieve. Funny, how much bigger she looked on TV. Larger than life and all that. Maybe her clothes were meant to make her look taller. Tall boots, dark jeans, and a flowing white top that bled into a white cape designed with a hood and with the symbol of Altera and the symbol of the League, the two overlapping and delicately embroidered into the fabric.

“Jude,” they said, nodding. “I was just checking in.” One of the two hotel staff jumped at that.

“Apologies! I am the concierge for this fine hotel. I was busy with other business, but I am now free. Please, allow me to check you in. It appears out desk staff member is currently unavailable.”

Jude nodded and called Rex with a little whistle. Lark hopped up as Rex trotted to Jude.

“Um, before y-you go,” said Lark, fidgeting with their hands in front of them. “Would you be willing to um, share your number with me?” They dug their phone out of their pants and held it up with both hands. Their gaze reminded Jude of Rex, right before Jude decided to give him human food.

Jude smiled.

“Sure,” they said. They lifted their phone and tapped it to Lark’s. Both phones beeped. “Hey, maybe we’ll see each other on the road.”

“You think?” asked Lark, their lips pursed in a little circle.

“Well, yeah, region’s only so big, and there’s only so many trainers,” said Jude, shrugging. And if Jude had to deal with people in the gym challenge, they might as well deal with someone who seemed nice.

“Right,” said Lark, staring at their phone. They looked at Jude through their bangs and gave them a tiny smile. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” said Jude. They headed over to the desk and the concierge showed Jude a tablet.

“Just enter your name and we’ll get you set up,” said the concierge. Jude tapped in their full name and their room number appeared. 330. What floor was that on? Thirty-three? Room zero? Or was the floor in a different place? Or maybe the rooms were numbered in order? The hotel wasn’t big enough to have a hundred rooms on each floor. At least, Jude didn’t think it was.

“Okay,” said the concierge. “Looks like you’re on the third floor, room thirty.” Oh. That certainly made more sense than Jude’s ideas. “Let me get your phone synced for your key and you can head on up.” He cast his gaze to Lark and Genevieve. Genevieve was talking to the other two people she’d been with before. “Excuse me, Ms. Harrow. I can have the bell hop take your bags to your room now, if you’d like. Lark’s room is also prepared.”

Genevieve smiled at him. “Wonderful, thank you very much. Lark, why don’t you call Snowdrop back? We don’t need her mucking up the hotel.” Lark nodded and returned Snowdrop to her Pokéball, and Jude frowned. Rex leaned close to their leg. His paws were dusty, but no one had said anything about him.

Huh.

The bell hop, a small woman with a wheelie cart, zipped over, took the bags sprawled around the chairs, and hurried over to the elevator. Jude followed, fingers curled into the strap of their bag, and glanced over their shoulder. Lark followed Genevieve, who was squinting at her phone as she walked to the elevator.

“Huh,” said Genevieve. “Lark, did you want to come to lunch tomorrow? I’m supposed to be meeting the reporter from Channel 7.” She stepped into the elevator behind the bell hop. Lark followed, then Jude. Jude watched, gaze darting across the three in the elevator. They were too tired to try and read tone or body language or facial expressions. Too tired to pick out anything but the words and their own exhaustion.

“Um, no thank you,” said Lark, fidgeting with their hands. The elevator hummed as it moved. “It’s my first day as a trainer.”

“Already planning to train?” asked Genevieve, smiling. “Well, I’m excited to see what you do!” The elevator dinged and opened, Jude looked and saw it was the third floor.

“Your stop,” said the bell hop. “Turn right and go down to the end of the hall. Your room will be on the left.”

Jude nodded. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a long walk, and Jude was glad to be out of the closed space. They tapped their phone to the door, it swung open, and Jude stumbled into a decent sized room that held a tall dresser, a wide bed, and a desk set against the wall under a large window. A door on one wall led into a small bathroom, which had a shower but not a tub, and there was a sliding door was probably a closet.

Jude set their bag down and stretched. “What do you say, Rex? Time for bed?”

Rex climbed up onto the bed, circled twice, and went to sleep. Jude sighed and started their before bed routine. Today was _finally_ over.

——

Morning came in sunlight streaming through cracked open curtains. It crossed the room and lingered against Jude’s skin, drawing them to wakefulness with squinting, blinking eyes. With a groan, they threw an arm across their eyes and tried to sink back into blissful sleep. But Rex was awake, now, and he jostled the bed as he climbed up from his spot at Jude’s side to their face. A few snuffles and licks had Jude letting out a huffing laugh, and they batted him away with gentle hands.

“Okay, okay,” they grumbled. “Let’s get you outside to pee.”

Still wearing pyjamas, Jude shuffled out of bed, toed on the complimentary slippers, and followed Rex out of the room and down to the lobby.

It was early, though Jude wasn’t sure how early. Early enough that the sun hadn’t crested the buildings. Instead, it peeked out from behind the skyscrapers, dancing merrily across the mirrored windows. As Jude crossed the lobby to the doors, they noted that only the front desk person was about. He was a different man from last night — paler, taller, and much more shrewd looking. He gave Jude a strange look as Jude followed Rex outside.

They leaned against the hotel as Rex trotted off to a nearby, struggling patch of grass. The morning air was cool, tinged with a sour taste that Jude couldn’t place. In the distance, toward some of the larger roads that Nolan had led Jude passed last night, there were blurry, colourful shapes draped across buildings. Jude frowned and pushed off the building, lifting one hand to shield their eyes as they squinted into the distance. Still too far away to read it.

Turning, Jude came face to face with another banner. It hung across the front of the hotel, blaring “good luck new trainers” in a large, bold font. And in all caps. And in neon letters against a dark background. A yelling, partying sign. Jude sighed. Great.

Was the whole event going to be this obnoxious?

Rex trotted back over and sat at Jude’s feet, his head tilted to one side and his tail wagging leisurely.

“Not my idea of a good time, buddy,” muttered Jude. They stuffed their hands in their pants’ pockets and shuffled toward the doors. “C’mon. Let’s get some food and try to ignore all this.”

They headed back inside and Jude blinked at the gaggle of people that had gathered in the lobby. They were talking to one another, arguing about breakfast foods, discussing organization, and otherwise muttering and murmuring things that Jude couldn’t hear. A short woman with the complexion of Johto natives — tawny with olive undertones — hurried over to Jude and stopped just short of their reach.

“Good morning. May I help you?” she asked.

Jude shook their head. “Nah, just letting my Pokémon out. We’ll uh…” Jude looked around at the people hanging up banners and posters. Ah, so it _was_ going to be this obnoxious. Maybe they could sneak out the side door. “We’ll go back to our room.”

The woman watched Jude, and so did a few others. Jude ignored their gazes, keeping their own forward as they stepped into the elevator and disappeared back upstairs with Rex.

They went back to sleep for a time, partially out of exhaustion and partially out of a want to avoid the nonsense. Eventually, they were awoken by their alarm, and Jude dressed quickly, packed faster, and tried to disappear outside with Rex before anyone saw them.

They got to the lobby before that dream was shattered.

“Good morning, new trainer,” said a very cheerful sounding woman holding a clipboard. She wore the outfit of the officials. Her shoes were polished. Her smile more so. “Please join the group and return your Pokémon to their ball. We’re about to get underway.”

Jude looked down at Rex, who stared up at them with wide eyes. They knew they should have registered him as a support Pokémon, just to stop this sort of shit. But if he was support, he couldn’t battle. And he needed to battle, because Jude didn’t want to catch more Pokémon.

“Sure,” said Jude, giving Rex their best apologetic look. He huffed, but allowed himself to be returned to his ball. “Let’s get this over with,” they muttered.

They followed the woman to the group, which had a bunch of people that Jude didn’t recognize, and one they did. The jackass from yesterday, in Duskport. _Arceus._

At least once this was all over, Jude could slip off into a route and ignore this whole nonsense for the rest of the year. Sleep in the woods, draw pictures of the region, and battle whenever they had to. Avoid trainers. Avoid people. Avoid cities.

Just had to get through this.

Taking a breath, Jude steeled themself and followed the crowd out of the hotel and toward the stadium.

_Here we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it'd be fun to post Sonder facts in the end notes of every chapter for as long as I can. So, let's start now.
> 
> Fact #1: Furrowbury is one of the most northern towns in all of Altera. However, it's on the opposite side of the region as the others. This gives it a unique culture compared to those on the west side of Altera.
> 
> And one for this chapter.
> 
> Fact #2: There are no highways in Altera. Roads between cities are rarely more than two lanes, and the most common form of intercity transportation is the train or monorail system, depending on where you are. Buses exist for transport between towns too small to warrant either.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! If you feel up to it, I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Opening Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's do some world building for the League, shall we? Plus, more interactions!

Technically speaking, there were nine gym stadiums throughout Altera. Eight main ones and the singular championship stadium/arena/dome — the title of which changed based on who you asked and where you were from. Technically speaking, Jude knew that the ninth arena was far larger and more impressive than the other eight, because it was meant for everything _but_ the eight main gym leaders.

Technically speaking.

But that didn’t mean they were prepared for the absolute awe-inspiring _nonsense_ that was the massive, sun-blocking stadium that rose like a fallen god from the centre of Dawnmere.

Like a slightly flattened Pokéball with the bottom cut off and with a massive stone hand curled around one side to hold it in place. Two rings, like the sort that burst from the theoretical Beast Balls, rose high into the air. They crossed halfway up the stadium at the front and back, arching high and wide over the top of the arena before piercing the ground once more. The top of the theoretical Pokéball was missing as well, leaving the arena open to the elements. Was there a retractable roof? Jude didn’t know.

As the crowd of future trainers approached the stadium, all Jude could do was stare, jaw dropped and eyes wide, at the marvel of silver steel and off-white stone and blue-tinted glass that dominated the space. Colourful, electronic billboards displayed information in half a dozen languages, video feeds of the inside of the arena, and past appearances of what Jude presumed to be League members. And front and centre, across the seam of the Pokéball, were the enormous, steel letters that read “Dawnmere Championship Stadium” in all capital letters.

“Whoa,” breathed Jude. They hesitated, feet gripping the concrete pad through their boots, head tilted back to stare. Then, someone bumped into them, and the spell was broken, throwing Jude, forcibly, back into the present. They grimaced and gripped their bag with one hand, Rex’s Pokéball tight in the other. Regardless of rules, they weren’t letting go of it. Not on their life.

The group Jude had been sucked into was swallowed into the massive crowd that flowed into the arena. With a grimace, Jude let themself follow within their place in the crowd. All around the groups of gathering trainers were larger groups of what had to be civilians. Fans, maybe. Some of them had banners or posters, displaying things like “good luck trainers”, “make us proud”, and “go all the way”.

The last one had Jude’s grimace shifting into a scowl. They ground their teeth together and dragged their gaze away from the crowd before their anger bubbled over. More than one said “be the very best”. That statement always made Jude snarl. The magic of the stadium was already fading, leaving behind only annoyance and frustration. It was all a lot of nonsense. A lot of bullshit. People yelling and shouting over trainers they’d never met. Trainers who would most likely never amount to anything. How many trainers were here, today? Six, seven hundred? Plus whoever else already had active trainer licenses. Most of them wouldn’t get passed the third gym. Most of the rest wouldn’t get passed the fourth.

Yet here Jude was, sucked into the fanfare and nonsense. Swayed by pretty lights and colourful banners and the size of some stupid stadium that existed to remind people that they were chasing an impossible dream. And how many people had mental health issues from trainer culture? How many had their hopes and dreams crushed from this rat race? How many ended up in dead-end jobs with shot confidence when they hit the third, or fourth, or even _second_ gym and realized they weren’t cut out for the trainer life? And how many got sick in the wild? Got injured? Watched their Pokémon get hurt?

Jude didn’t know. There weren’t a lot of studies about that sort of thing, and those that did exist tended to be badly received or get caught up in politics. The number of peer-reviewed papers for retired trainers and trainer mental health was abysmal. And the responses were always more popular.

With a deep breath, Jude crossed from the sunlit concrete to the shadows of the arena, doing their best to ignore the people around them. Soon-to-be trainers gossiped and chatted, whispering about the stadium, about the ceremony, about all sorts of things that Jude didn’t bother to eavesdrop on. None of it sounded worth listening in on. It was the same things that Jude had always assumed trainers would talk about.

Trainer stuff.

The tall, intricate doors of the stadium were thrown open, and a row of officials stood inside, guiding the crowd into a central area in the lobby. It, too, was enormous. High ceilings that had Jude longing for their climbing rigs, long counters that were filled with tech and had officials standing behind them. Waiting areas on either side of the doors, filled with chairs and couches and seating, were oddly empty.

The crowd dispersed, spreading out around a central platform set up against the counters, dead centre in the waiting area. Jude shifted around people, using their size to part groups, until they found themself near the back and near the waiting area to the left of the door.

They dug their necklace out, stuffing the rubber ring into their mouth, and fingered the fire stone on the other. Both motions helped soothe the noise the pressed in on all sides. Why didn’t they have headphones they could wear for this? The only ones on them were for their music. Something else to buy before they left the city. Damn it.

Jude rolled the fire stone in their fingers, trying to ignore everything around them while they waited for whatever was next. What _was_ next? Hell, had they ever watched one of these on TV? Little bits, maybe. But never the beginning, and never all the way through. Even so, they couldn’t recall ever hearing about this part. The reporters seemed to see the outside and the stadium itself, not the part in the lobby.

So Jude was flying blind.

After what felt like an eternity, and a lot more would-be trainers pushing their way into the massive lobby — maybe it wasn’t full, but it _felt_ full. There were more people in this lobby than Jude had ever seen in one place before, bar the little bits and pieces they’d seen throughout the last twenty-four hours — a woman got up on the platform at the front.

She lifted her stern chin and surveyed them all with a sterner look. She said nothing. Did nothing. Yet, piece by piece, bit by bit, the crowd around Jude fell silent, until only a few whispers remained. Even they faded, a few seconds later. As if she could command them all with nary a word.

_Damn._

“Welcome, would-be trainers,” said the woman. “My name is Maeve Laurent, the vice-president of the Pokémon League. It is my honour and privilege to stand before you today as a representative of the Pokémon League and as one the handful of officials that helps shape the future of Altera.” She clasped her hands in front of her. Was she wearing a microphone? Jude couldn’t tell. Maybe she was just _that_ loud. “I stand before you today, looking out at the almost six-hundred of you that have passed the preliminary licensing exam. Many of you believe you are ready for this journey, but I assure you, the real test has only just begun.”

She smiled, waiting for the handful of whispers and murmurs to die down before she spoke again. “You have proven yourselves to be worthy of the title of ‘trainer’, but the path of the trainer is long and hard. Eight badges, four Elite Four members, and one Champion stand between you and your dream.”

Jude fought the urge to roll their eyes. Dream. Bah. Their only dream, at the moment, was finding out if landscape painting and rock climbing could make a decent career, or if it was possible to live comfortably, and alone, on UBI.

“Along your journey, you will face many challenges. Wild Pokémon, rough terrain, unforgiving weather, and your fellow trainers will stand in your way.” She gestured around the crowd. “Look around at your fellow trainers. There is a good chance you will be facing off against one of them, sooner or later. Perhaps, one day, you will face them in the championship tournament.” She tilted her head, a wry smile on her face as more chatter sprang up. Jude tucked Rex’s Pokéball into their belt and folded their arms across their chest. Was this woman ever going to get to the point? Maybe Jude should have found a way to skip this stupid ceremony.

Hiding from officials in their hotel room would have been a lot less painful than this nonsense.

Jeez.

“Before all that, however,” said Maeve, once the chatter had died down again, “you must go through the ceremony and your initiation as a trainer. So, give me your attention, and let’s get started.” Maeve clapped her hands. “You will be divided into seven groups based on your last name. Your last name is the last name on your trainer card. If you have multiple last names, check your card. If your culture dictates that your family name is first and your given name is second, your family name will be the name you are sorted under. If you do not have a last name or your last name cannot be translated into the twenty-six letter alphabet we are using, you are in group seven. Understood?” She raised both eyebrows. A lot of nods. “Good. To my left and right are two hallways. Hallway A, and Hallway B. Each group will be told to proceed down one of these hallways. There are locker rooms in these hallways. Each group will be assigned to one of these locker rooms. When I call your group, you will proceed to the locker room assigned.”

She dug her phone out of her pants’ pocket and held it up. “In the locker room, you will find closed lockers. Hold your phone up to the locker to unlock it. You will then assign a unique passcode to the locker. You must use your phone and your passcode to open the locker at the end of the opening ceremony. If you cannot enter the passcode for whatever reason, please speak with an official in the lobby or an official in the locker room — each locker room is assigned two officials. One inside the room and one outside, in the waiting area.”

A hand went up. Maeve gestured for them to speak.

“What do we put in the lockers?” asked the person. Jude couldn’t see them, but they had a squeaky voice.

“Everything not permitted in the stadium field,” said Maeve, with a nod. “You will be permitted to bring yourself, your partner Pokémon, your partner Pokémon’s Pokéball, your phone, any ID you have on you, permitting it fits in your pockets, and any accessibility devices, tools, Pokémon, or persons that you require. You may release your partner Pokémon in the locker room if the Pokémon is under six feet tall, two hundred pounds, and is Class Yellow or _lower_ on the standard socialization spectrum or SSS.”

Another hand went up. Maeve nodded again.

A snickering teenage boy asked, “So, are we supposed to go into the stadium field naked?” His friends snickered around him. Jude rolled their eyes.

Maeve flashed the boys an icy smile. “Only if you want to be arrested for indecent exposure, my dear.” The boys stopped laughing. Maeve returned to her speech. “If your Pokémon does not meet these requirements, you may release them once you enter the field. Once you have finished in the locker room, proceed to the waiting area at the other end of the room. There, you will find the second official, an interpreter for the Deaf and hard of hearing, as well as wall-mounted televisions, with subtitles on, and speakers, which will allow you to watch the ceremony.” Maeve cleared her throat and rose her voice. “When the trainers are called, you will be cued by the official. Do not pass the official until you are cued, or you will be removed from the arena by security. Am I making myself clear?”

Nods and shouts of affirmation all around.

Maeve’s smile was warmer. “Good. If you have any problems, concerns, or questions, please speak to an official in the lobby or in the locker rooms. There are many and we are here to help. Let’s begin.” She turned her phone to face her and swiped it. “Group 1, last names or family names beginning with A, B, C, or D, please proceed down Hallway A and to locker room 1A. I repeat, if your last name begins with A, B, C, or D, please proceed down Hallway A and enter locker room 1A.” A sign language interpreter, who Jude had only just noticed, signed quickly as Maeve spoke. Maeve gestured down the hall. A sizable chunk of the crowd split off and headed down Hallway A.

Jude waited. They were next. Just a matter of seeing where they went.

“Group 2,” said Maeve, “last names beginning with E, F, G, or H, please proceed down Hallway B and to locker room 1B. I repeat…” Jude tuned out the rest. They moved with the crowd to Hallway B, trying their best to ignore the way people jostled and pushed against them as they went.

As they went, they spotted a flash of white hair in the crowd that, while not very familiar, was more familiar than the rest of this nonsense.

“Lark!” called Jude, nudging their way through the crowd. The white-haired figure stopped and turned. As the crowd parted around Lark and Jude, Jude noted a few dirty looks as people pushed passed them.

“Jude,” said Lark, a little smile on their face. “Hi. It’s good to see you. Um… are you in group two, too?”

Right, Lark’s last name was Harrow, just like Genevieve. That put the two of them near each other.

“Yeah, Farr,” said Jude. “Er, last name, I mean.” They fiddled with their fire stone necklace and fought the urge to grab for the chewing one. They couldn’t exactly talk with it in their mouth. At least, not well, and not politely.

“Hey, move it,” said one guy. Jude turned, eyes already narrowing, but the guy was gone. They sighed.

“We, um, should probably get to the locker room,” said Lark, already turning. “Are y-you coming?”

“Yeah,” said Jude, following after them. The two fell into step with each other, Jude with their hands in their pockets and Lark with their hands bunched up in front of them. Jude didn’t know how Lark didn’t run into people, with how they kept their head down and how long their bangs were, but if it worked, it worked. Who was Jude to judge? “Uhh… I’m… not good at small talk? I think this is the part where I ask you how you’ve been?”

Lark let out a quiet noise that could have been a giggle. They clapped a hand over their mouth and stumbled. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I just…” Lark curled in on themself as they walked. Jude waited. They didn’t know what Lark had meant, so there was nothing they could say in response.

Lark sighed. “I’m sorry,” they said, again. “You were being polite and I was rude. I’ve never heard anyone say something so, well, blunt, and it surprised me. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you.”

Jude relaxed a bit. Lark’s apologies were so similar to their own that it was hard not to believe them.

“It’s all right,” said Jude. Ahead of them, people were turning into a wide door that had to be the locker room. Jude and Lark turned to follow them. “I mean it, though.” They rubbed at their hair, partially to avoid biting their nails. Dad was always telling them it was bad for their health. “Just because I said it that way doesn’t mean I don’t. I just… forget to ask.”

Lark nodded, their head still low. Jude could barely make out a little smile on their face. “I’m okay, thank you. Yourself?”

“Already over this day,” muttered Jude. “But fine, I guess.” Jude let out a grumbling sigh when they saw the locker room. Walls of lockers, some against the actual walls and some of them back to back in the middle of the space, forming alleyways that were hugged by benches and chairs. A bathroom area was off to one side, near the back. Tiled walls, tiled floor. Tiles, tiles, tiles. All of it echoing.

And so many people. Six hundred new trainers, seven groups, on average that was what, eighty-five, eighty-six people to a group? It felt like more. The cramped, windowless space and echoing walls making it worse.

“Do you want to get lockers together?” asked Lark, their voice pressing in and overtaking the noise that threatened to swallow Jude whole. “We don’t have to. I mean, um, I don’t want to assume…”

“Yes,” said Jude. _Please._ Some familiarity was better than none.

They chose lockers in a corner, Jude on the inside and Lark on the outside. All the instructions worked, and Jude used Rex’s birthday for their passcode. At least the lockers were big enough for their pack. But it made sense. The stadium dealt with travelling trainers regularly. If it didn’t have big lockers, what was the point?

“I-If you’re ready, the waiting area is this way,” said Lark, once both of them had put their things away. They gnawed at their lower lip. “But I don’t want to presume.”

“You know this place?” asked Jude.

Lark nodded. “I’ve been here… a lot, actually. My sister, she, well…” They trailed off and nibbled on their lower lip. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear about all that.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know,” said Jude. What was the point of asking, otherwise? Asking how someone was doing was one thing. Short answers to be polite, longer ones to be genuine. That was how Dad had taught them. But actual questions were for investment. What was the point in asking something when you didn’t want to know the answer? People were so strange, sometimes.

Besides, Lark wasn’t like the other trainers Jude had met, before, or even like the massive crowd of chattering, shouting teenagers that pressed in far too close for Jude’s liking. Sure, they and Lark were teenagers, too, but Lark was small, and quiet, and didn’t have that same over-the-top excited energy that the rest of them seemed to.

It was nice.

“Oh,” said Lark. “Okay. My sister comes here every year, and I usually get to go through the League locker room, but they’re all set up the same.” Lark shrugged a tiny bit. Such a minute action that if Jude hadn’t been watching closely — almost entirely to avoid watching the locker room — they wouldn’t have noticed. Jude scanned their mind to understand what that shrug meant. They came up with nothing. Huh.

“Why aren’t you with them this year?” asked Jude. The locker room was packed, but they managed to push through it and slip through the archway into the waiting area. By the breeze, it was open to the stadium field, and when Jude looked up, they saw the field at the end of the tunnel-like hallway. Already, the waiting area was filling up with new trainers, but they all hung far back from the end. Jude pushed through, wanting space.

The official wasn’t that close to them, so why were they all huddled together like this?

“Genevieve asked if I wanted to, but I’d rather be part of the regular trainers,” said Lark, softly, their words overlapping Jude’s thoughts as Jude tried to find out what was going on.

A snort to the right as the two kept moving through the group. Jude turned, eyes narrowing at the derisive sound.

It was the same guy as before, in Duskport. The one with the bad attitude and the injured Pokémon. Jude didn’t remember what Nurse Bridgette had called him.

“What, you dare grace us regular peasants with your presence, oh great one?” asked the boy. His tone had Jude bristling, teeth baring and face contorting into a snarl. “Oh, we’re so grateful,” cooed the boy, rolling his eyes. “You really do think you’re _so_ much better than us, don’t you? Please. Go back to the League and play team pet, like you’ve always done. It’s where you belong.” Lark let out a quiet whimper and stepped back from the boy.

Jude growled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” They took half a step in front of Lark, one arm barring the brat from getting to Lark. “Big talk from a dick who tried to pay his way to faster healing.”

Eyes. Whispers. Attention. Jude paid them little mind, eyes narrowed. People sucked. People sucked. But people sucked no matter the day. Later. They’d deal with it later.

“How the hell do you—” The guy stopped. “You’re the guy from the Pokémon Centre.”

“Not a guy,” said Jude, “and fuck you for getting that wrong twice.” They jerked their chin at him. “What do you want with Lark?”

The guy snorted. “You mean the ‘future Champion’?” he asked, a sneer on his face. “That brat probably hasn’t ever had a real Pokémon battle. All that pet knows is privilege and unfair advantages.” He tossed his blond bangs out of his eyes. “Please.”

Who was he to talk about privilege after what he’d said in Duskport?

“You know what I think,” started Jude, stepping forward, but they were stopped by a low, animalistic growl. Jude and the guy turned and came face to face with the seven foot tall, steel-plated beast that was an Aggron. The guy yelped and stumbled backward. Around them, people gasped and stepped back.

Jude felt the tension slip from their shoulders at the sight.

“Oh, _hello_ ,” they whispered, a smile stretching across their face. They reached up to the beast. He had to be an official’s Pokémon. “Aren’t you handsome?” They hesitated, fingers maybe six inches from his nose. He sniffled them, huffed, and then dropped his head so Jude could stroke his face, letting out the low, gravelly noise that made up an Aggron’s purr.

“You know,” said an official, striding up from nearer to the field entrance, “usually when I send out Tank, people run the opposite direction. Good for intimidation.” He cocked his head, a wry twist of his lips and his hands in his pockets. “Guess it doesn’t work on you.”

Jude was still smiling, though it was smaller now, and they focused on the Aggron — _Tank_ , and such a great name — over everything else. Their anger was mostly gone in the face of a new, beautiful Pokémon. They’d never seen a fully grown Aggron before, just Aron. They weren’t native to Altera, and so finding them was incredibly difficult. They had to be imported. There was a ranch for them to the east of the Roan Valley, but it was a small, isolated thing that outsiders needed permission to enter. Something about aura and trauma. Jude had never been permitted to go, but their father had, and an Aron had been brought to him, once, in Furrowbury.

“Oh, Aggron aren’t scary, they’re just family oriented and territorial,” said Jude, still stroking Tank’s snout. “As long as they understand you consider them friends and won’t harm their families, they’re just softies.” They nuzzled Tank’s snout with their own nose. “Aren’t you, big guy?”

Tank let out a low rumble, like he was cooing back.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to end that fight,” said the official, rubbing the back of his neck. He chuckled. “Gotta admit, not sure what to do now. No one’s ever reacted like this to Tank.”

Jude blinked. Fight? “Oh, shit. Did I break some rules?” they asked, pulling away from Tank. He let out a little distressed noise and Jude kept stroking his snout. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, but I’m not sorry for what I said. He’s a dick and a hypocrite and he’s yelling at people for no good reason.” Jude shot the guy a look and he glowered back at them, but Tank seemed to keep him back. Well, that was useful.

“Even so, I’ll have to ask you _both_ to stop,” said the official. He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the guy, then at Jude. Jude shrugged. Hey, they got to meet and Aggron and yell at an asshole. If they got kicked out of an event they didn’t want to be at, so be it.

Although, Jude turned their head and saw Lark staring up at them, and Tank, with wide, terrified eyes. Their hands were drawn close to their chest, fingers curled down toward their palms.

“How aren’t you scared of it?” asked Lark. All around, people watched, some as terrified as Lark, some pretending to be brave. But none got within about a seven foot radius of Jude and Tank. Long enough that even Tank’s tail couldn’t hope to brush them.

“Why would I be?” asked Jude, blinking. “Pokémon aren’t scary. They’re just like us, some bad, some good.” They looked into Tank’s dark eyes and saw warmth there. They smiled. “I think most Pokémon are good, more than people, anyway. Besides, he’s an official’s Pokémon. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“He’s _red coded_ ,” said a girl in the back. “He’s not even allowed out in cities!”

“Not without a permit, anyway,” said the official. He was smiling. “Your appreciation is, well, appreciated.”

Rules flowed through Jude’s mind, highlighted and earmarked for these sorts of situations. They’d gotten this “official’s” job wrong.

“You can’t be an official,” said Jude, staring at Tank. “They can’t use red classified Pokémon. You have to be a League member or a ranger.” Jude shifted their gaze and narrowed their eyes. “So which are you?”

“What, you don’t know all the League members?” asked the guy from before.

Jude huffed. “Did I ask you, jackass?” asked Jude, throwing their words at him. “Shut up.”

“You shut up,” he said, stepping forward. “You ignorant little—”

“Oh _I_ _’m_ the ignorant one?” growled Jude. They stepped back from Tank and spun, clenching their fists at their sides. “You’re the one who can remember me from the Pokémon Centre but can’t remember my damn pronouns?”

“Pronouns? What are you, some kinda snowflake?” asked the guy. They glared at one another, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Jude had size on their side, but the guy had a couple friends behind him, chins up and chests puffed, just like him. “You and the Champion’s sis—”

Jude snarled. “Don’t. Just _don_ _’t._ And leave Lark the hell alone. They’ve done nothing to you.”

“They’ve done _everything._ You think anyone in that stadium,” he threw his arm out toward the stadium field, “cares about any of us? The only trainer they’re watching this year is _Lark Harrow_ , the next Champion.” He rolled his eyes. “If you ask me,” he turned his gaze to Lark, a look that Jude couldn’t place on his face, “all Lark’s gonna be is the biggest disappointment Altera’s ever had. I mean, look at you,” he gestured to Lark, “you’re pathetic.”

Jude leaned on one leg, drew back their first and—

“Jude,” said Lark, a hand on Jude’s inner elbow, stopping the arm in its tracks. “Please. Let it go. People do this to me. It’s not a big deal. We shouldn’t get kicked out.”

“He’s an ass,” protested Jude, “and a bigot.”

“I’ll agree on the latter,” said the official who was not an official. He stepped forward. “I need to ask you two to separate, now. I won’t kick you out, Mr. Mèinn, but you’re not permitted to speak to either of these individuals, again.” The guy snorted, spun on his heels, and stalked off, muttering. Two guys followed after him. Jude fought a smirk. _Hell_ yeah.

“As for you,” said the not-an-official, turning toward Jude. Jude tensed. Great. Now what? “I won’t ask you to leave, either, but I will ask you to stop.”

“He’s a dick,” said Jude, throwing out one hand toward him.

“He’s bigoted and he attacked you verbally,” said the not-official, nodding. “And he will be watched and we will do whatever we can to stop him from doing it again. However, you did attempt to turn the alteration into a physical one, which cannot be ignored… uh…” The hesitation had Jude raising their eyebrows. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

“Jude,” said Jude. “Jude Farr. They/them.” They lifted their chin in a sort of a nod.

The not-official nodded. “Jude. Well, it’s good to meet you. I’m glad to see someone who isn’t scared of Tank, and I’m sorry we met this way. I’m Bram, a ranger. Good eye on realizing I’m not an actual official. Couple of us got called in to help out with the ceremony.”

Jude lifted their shoulders at the praise.

“Consider this a gentle warning. While you were provoked, I cannot permit violence in this stadium. If you try to attack Owen Mèinn again, you will be asked to leave and you will have your trainer license delayed by twenty-four hours.” He nodded, then looked to Lark. “Terribly sorry, Mx. Harrow, for the harassment. I hope the rest of your day goes well.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Lark, nodding. With that, Bram called to Tank and the two crossed the space, taking up their spots nearer to the end of the hallway. He folded his arms and watched them all. Tank watched, but his gaze kept sliding to Jude, looking hopeful. Jude sighed and looked at Lark, ignoring the way people stared at them.

“Sorry,” said Jude. “Not for,” they gestured, “all that. But for upsetting you.” A pause. “I did upset you, didn’t I?” Or else they hadn’t interpreted the situation properly.

“Y-you did,” said Lark. They cast a glance at everyone in the area and sighed. “I appreciate you standing up for me, but, um, you really didn’t have to…” The last words were a mumble.

Jude nodded toward the wall, closer to Tank and further from the growing group of teens. Lark followed them and the two settled against the wall, watching the television screen on the opposite wall. The camera faced the stage, which was currently empty, and all around, Jude could see the thousands of people gathered in the stadium for the opening ceremony.

“No point in letting bullies walk over you when you can stop them,” said Jude, shrugging. “Besides, I don’t mind fighting bigots. Least these ones back off.” Back home? Not so much. Granted, it wasn’t like Jude could punch Mrs. Witherwood. If they could, things would be a lot easier.

Stupid rules.

Jude looked at Lark, who didn’t say anything.

“You deal with this a lot?” Jude asked, raising both eyebrows. Around them, conversation had resumed. Jude shrugged off what was left of the looks. People were people. And trainers were assholes. Nothing Jude could do to change that. All they could do was get as far away from this stupid culture as they could, as fast as they could, once the ceremony was over. God, they hated this. Crowds, attention, all of it. But it wasn’t like they could change it. Just deal with the itching between their shoulders later.

“Only when I go out alone,” said Lark, rubbing one should with the opposite hand. “When I’m with Gen, or another League member, no one really bugs me.”

“Then why come in here? Why not go in the League changing room?” asked Jude, cocking their head to one side.

“Because I’m tired of special privileges,” said Lark, looking up at Jude with wide eyes. Jude let their gaze skip over Lark’s eyes and land on their overgrown bangs. It was a little strange, seeing such white hair up close. They’d never met anyone with it, before. “Just because my sister is the Champion doesn’t mean I should get all her, you know, stuff, too.” They hugged themself and took a deep breath, visibly steeling themself. “If I’m going to make the journey to become the next Champion, then I’m going to do it just like everyone else. I-it’s the right thing to do.”

Jude fought the urge to roll their eyes. “You’re making the run for Champion, too? Just like everyone else?” They couldn’t quite keep the disappointment out of their voice. So much for Lark being different.

Lark shrugged, their head bowing and gaze going to the floor. “I mean, it’s what everyone e-expects of me. I’d hate to let so many people down.”

Jude sighed. “You know, there’s something to be said about subverting people’s expectations. I’m not doing what people think _I_ should do.”

“What do you mean?” asked Lark.

“Quiet everyone,” called Bram. “The ceremony is beginning.” Jude gave Lark a narrow eyed look, brow furrowed and lips pursed. What did Lark mean by that question? Why were they so worried about letting people down? The only person Jude had to worry about disappointing was their father. And he just wanted Jude to try something new, every once in a while.

Still, Jude didn’t get the appeal of going for Champion. And their disappointment grew the longer they thought about how hopeful they’d been when they met Lark, last night.

An older woman with dark skin and elegant hands, her grey-white locs pulled into a long ponytail, stepped onto the stage. She stood in front of the microphone and waited for silence to fall. It took only moments, just like with Maeve.

“Good morning, Altera, and welcome to the opening ceremony for this year’s Pokémon League. My name is Elidi Sato and I am the president of the Pokémon League.” She smiled as cheers sounded all around her. “It is an honour to stand before you today to introduce this year’s League. As you all know, this year we are facing the end of a gym cycle, and so our time with each other this year is much shorter. In ten months’ time, I will stand here once more to honour those who made it to the yearly tournament, and when it is over, we will begin the task of selecting the next eight gym leaders. Look closely at the leaders you see today, for while some may return next year, there are others who may say goodbye for the next four years, or even forever.”

More cheering. Jude’s mouth quirked up on one side. She had such a lovely voice, President Sato, and her words made Jude feel light. They had no interest in watching the gym showcase tournament, where the new gym leaders would be chosen, but they’d forgotten that was this year. That meant this year away from home would be even shorter than they thought.

Not sure how they felt about that, if they were honest.

“But that is not what we’re here to talk about, today. Today, we welcome almost six hundred new trainers into the gym challenge. Today, we celebrate the strength of Altera. Today, we usher forth the next generation of our protectors, our heroes, and our icons. Please, join me in introducing our new trainers!” President Sato clapped as she ended her words. Bram and Tank stepped aside.

“All right, everyone out. Call out your Pokémon as you go. Don’t pass the white lines in the grass,” said Bram. The interpreter signed quickly as he spoke.

Jude grabbed their Pokéball and called out Rex. He shook himself off, barked, and followed Jude out to the field. Lark followed beside them, taking two steps for every one of Jude’s. Jude slowed their pace and offered Lark a little smile. Lark returned it as they called out Snowdrop.

The end of the hallway was bright and brilliant. It blinded Jude for just a moment, and then the stadium field, and the stands, came into full view.

Jude sucked in a breath, entire body tensing as the full force of the audience’s roars slammed into them. Lark seemed unaffected.

“How aren’t you…?” Jude waved a bit, unable to find the words. Lark dug into their pocket and held out a pair of ear plugs.

“Specialist trainer ear plugs,” said Lark, loud enough for Jude to hear over the audience. “Blocks out background noise, but not up close. Here. I have extras.”

Jude took them, grateful, and slipped them into their ears. Almost immediately, the roar of the crowd dulled to a background buzzing, and the murmuring of those around Jude became a little more tolerable, as well.

“Thanks,” said Jude. The grass and field were soft beneath Jude’s feet and the white line came up fast, leaving Jude with a moment to stare at the stadium field.

The stage was dead centre, with stairs going up the high stage. Above them, seemingly floating, was a massive set of four flat screens that attached to a high box in the sky. They showed the same view the screens in the tunnel/hallway had.

Lights, marks in the grass, the grass itself — pristine and perfect — and the crowd. Thousands of people in benches and high above them all, watching them all. All around, other new trainers came out of tunnels, all of them just as bright and colourful as anything else. Jude clenched their hands at their sides and ground their teeth until they tasted blood.

Too much. Too many. Even with the ear plugs. Even with Rex pressed against their leg. Nothing was distracting from how awful it all was. The light. The _lights._ Why hadn’t Jude brought their sunglasses with them. That would have helped. That would have stopped all this.

“Welcome trainers!” called President Sato. Jude sucked in a sharp, shaky breath and tugged their chewy necklace free from their shirt, slipping the rubber ring into their mouth, cameras be damned. They needed something or they were going to lose it.

Fingers trembling, eyes twitching. Too much light. Could Jude just close their eyes? They reached up and tugged their hat down low, dropping their gaze to the ground. Rex stared up at them and nuzzled deeper into Jude’s leg.

“You okay?” whispered Lark.

Jude snorted. “Not really. Just need this to be over with.”

“Okay. If I can help…” Lark trailed off.

“Thank you,” said Jude, around the necklace.

“It’s good to have you all here,” said President Sato. “Close to six hundred new trainers stand before us today. All of you intent on becoming the very best you can be. I cannot wait to see what you all accomplish. Let’s give them a round of applause, shall we?” She clapped and so too did the rest of the stadium, a dull roar behind the earplugs.

“Now that we’ve introduced all of you, let’s say hello to our League members, our eight gym leaders, our Elite Four, and our Champion,” said President Sato. “Let’s start with our gym leaders. First up, a fierce and protective single mother, our normal gym leader, Moira.” Jude lifted their head to watch the gym leaders come in, just to have something to focus on.

From the shadows of the tunnel directly to the left of the stage came a curvaceous woman with a brilliant smile. A Stoutland trotted alongside her.

“Don’t underestimate the power of normal-type,” she called, the slight echo betraying what was probably a clip-on mic in her shirt. “A lack of weaknesses makes a good defense, don’t you think?” She chuckled and stepped up onto the stage, taking a spot on the far left.

“Next up, our bug-type gym leader, a person of many tricks; the passionate, the curious, the dedicated — Kai!” President Sato gestured and once again a figure stepped out from the tunnel. They were tall and pale and lean, with a bandanna tied around their neck and ranger tags hanging atop them. Jude stared. Whoa.

“Bug-types are fascinating, powerful creatures, don’t you think? I plan to show all of you just how great they can be,” said Kai, voice sleek and cheeky through the speakers. They stepped onto the stage and took a spot to the right of Moira.

President Sato continued, “Our dark-type gym leader. She’s beautiful, she’s powerful, and she’s musical - introducing Anh-Thi.”

An elegant, tawny skinned woman with angular features and smooth skin stepped out. Her hair was buzzed on one side and hung over the opposite shoulder, long and black and filled with beads.

“Show me the song in your hearts, trainers, and perhaps you will learn the song of my own,” she said. She took a spot to the right of Kai.

Again, President Sato spoke. “He’s big, he’s fierce, and he’s the ocean made man. I present to you, he’s as large as a barge, Omar, the water-type gym leader!”

A big man with thick muscles and dark skin stepped out from the tunnel. He waved with both massive arms. He had to be at least half a foot taller than Jude. Holy _shit._ He had thick curls that were shaved closed to the head and every inch of visible skin was covered in thick, curly black hair. An impressive beard did little to hide his ferocious smile.

“Aha!” he shouted. “My friends, I see you have come to challenge me. I suggest you remember,” his gaze turned to the trainers, visible on the screen. His grin turned fierce, “I am the reason so many never see the second half of the gym challenge.” With a chuckle, he took his place to the right of Anh-Thi.

President Sato chuckled. “Our fighting-type gym leader. They’re calm, cool, and a bit of a prankster. I present to you, the ever illusive, even-tempered, Zain!”

A tall, somewhat muscular person stepped from the tunnel. They had dusty brown skin and steely grey eyes. Their hair was long, dark brown, and fashioned into a bun atop their head. They lifted one hand to their lips, kissed it, and raised that hand to the crowd. Even through the earplugs, Jude heard the screams of all genders rip through the stadium.

They smirked, high on one side and teeth on that side of their mouth visible, revealing a fang. Their eyes glinted. “Let’s not forget, President Sato, exactly what the people of Altera know me for.” They winked. People screamed. Jude sighed. “If you keep your head, you might stand a chance.” Zain did a front flip and landed with their hands in their pants’ pockets. “Or not.”

They took their place next to Omar, who clapped them on the shoulder.

President Sato sighed. “Yes, Zain, we all know _you_ _’re_ known for. That wonderful dojo of yours.” Laughter all around, Omar’s the loudest. Zain shrugged, hands in the air and what looked like a sheepish smile on their face.

When the audience calmed a bit, President Sato spoke again. “Never one to be outdone, I bring you — wind personified, the storm become woman, our resident popstar and all-around fierce competitor — Aella!”

No one came from the tunnel. There was a brief moment of confused silence, then a massive roar from above drew the audience’s, and Jude’s, attention to the sky. From the sky came a Salamence, streaking down toward them. On its back was a woman that Jude had seen a hundred times on television, in music videos and in interviews. Long, straight black hair, brown skin a few shades darker than Jude’s own, clothes that put most of Kalos to shame, or so Jude had been told.

Aella leaped from the back of her Salamence as it passed low over the field and landed in a crouch. She drew herself to her full height, which was shorter than the last few trainers, and grinned. Sharpedo-like.

“Thank you, President Sato. It’s wonderful to be back. I cannot wait to see who makes it to my gym, this year,” she said, beaming. And then, with a twinkle in her eyes, “It’s always fun to see how many of you underestimate the power of flying-types and I, the tempest of Altera!” She threw her arms into the air and the crowd went nuts, chanting her name.

Jude was pretty sure she was releasing an album called Thunderstruck next month. Fitting for “tempest” and “storm”. Eesh.

Aella took her spot next to Zain.

“Our second to last gym leader,” said President Sato. “You know her for her conservation efforts surrounding ghost-type Pokémon. Here in the League, we call her Grammy,” a few chuckles, “I present to you, the elegant, the regal, Miss Bernice!”

An older woman with braided hair walked onto the field, leaning on a cane. Around her, a Gengar, a Haunter, and a Chandelure swirled. Some of the new trainers near her stepped back, their expressions unclear.

“Now, now, I ask that you all call me Bernie,” said Miss Bernice. She gave a look to Aella. “You know, one of these days I won’t follow you, deary. Maybe then I’ll think of a fun introduction.”

Aella shrugged and helped Miss Bernice onto the stage to take her spot next to Aella.

“Our last gym leader is the most powerful of all. Calm, calculating, and all around the smartest man I’ve ever met. He’s rarely challenged and always prepared. Our electric gym leader, Tenzin,” called President Sato.

A man with short, uneven, dark brown hair and a myriad of watercolour tattoos that Jude couldn’t make out stepped out from the tunnel. He had his hands in his pockets and a dull look on his face. He lifted a hand as he walked.

“I’d say I look forward to meeting all of you, but seeing as I’ve rarely gotten more than a dozen new challengers a year, I doubt very much that I’ll see any significant number of you.” He smiled. “But I hope you come visit, nonetheless. It does get lonely in that stadium, after all.”

Cheers as Tenzin took his position next to Miss Bernice, who thwacked him lightly with her cane.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here,” said President Sato. “Next, our Elite Four. You know them, you love them, so let’s hear it for all of them. First, our ice-type Elite Four. He’s the diva of Altera, the younger brother of our Contest Superstar, and an ice skater turned hockey player, I bring you, _The Ice King_ , King!”

A leanly muscled dark man stepped out from the tunnel. He was much smaller than Omar, but his hair was much bigger. Big, curly hair that stuck up in all directions. It was dark brown and streaked with white and palest blue, and when he raised his hands, his nails were painted the same colours.

“Do not let fear stop you from accomplishing your goals, young ones,” called King, “and do not let those who stand against you stand in your way. You are better than them. You are better than all your detractors!” He lifted his hands into the air and laughed. “So laugh with me, young ones, and know, one day, you may stand alongside me.”

He took a spot to the right of Tenzin, still waving. Jude blinked. They’d never heard of most of these people before. But then, they’d never followed the news or the trainer stuff. So why would they know about any of them? Moira, sure, they knew about her. But not most of the others.

President Sato lifted her arms into the air. “Our second Elite Four. They are a journeyer like no other, an explorer determined to map out the world. I give you, _The Dragon of Altera_ , and our dragon-type Elite Four, Domino.”

From the tunnel came a tall, moderately scarred person with hands and muscles almost identical to Jude’s own. Jude perked, eyes growing wide and a smile stretching onto their pinched face. A climber?

When they spoke, their voice held a carefully controlled mania that Jude felt down to their bones. “We all yearn for something. I yearn to know the secrets of the world. Dig deep. Find the secret yearning of your heart, and you may stand a chance at beating me.”

They took their place next to King, who clapped them on the shoulder.

“Our third Elite Four is known for her psychic power, and for her only being defeated once in her entire career,” said President Sato. “I give you, _The Mentalist,_ Fabia!”

From the shadows came a woman of legend, and the only Elite Four that Jude knew existed. With calculating eyes and long, wind-whipped hair, she was the perfect image of poise and control. She didn’t lift a hand as she walked to the stage, and in fact, only spoke once she had climbed the stairs.

She looked over the crowd and narrowed her eyes. They paused on Lark for a brief second and Lark hunched their shoulders up near their ears.

“As you stand now,” said Fabia, her voice as cool as the rest of her. “None of you stand a chance at beating me. I suggest you remember that.” She took her place next to Domino as a hush fell over the new trainers.

Jude fought a shiver.

Psychics.

“Our fourth Elite Four,” said President Sato, bringing the attention back to herself, “is not only one of two people to ever defeat Fabia, but is also the one youngest Elite Four to ever grace Altera’s stage. I give you, the man second to only the Champion, one of two people in the League to never be defeated, the fire-type expert with the fiery personality, _The Prodigy_ himself _,_ Nolan!”

_No._ It had to be a coincidence.

It _had_ to.

Jude’s jaw dropped as, from the shadows, came the very Nolan that had helped them the night before. He waved with both arms, grinning all the way over to the stage. He looked so unassuming, so normal, yet as he came closer to the other members of the League, it was clear he belonged, as they all watched him with respect in their eyes.

“I cannot tell you how excited I am to be here once again. New trainers and old, you’re all welcome here. I hope one day to battle the person who will become our next Champion, and to befriend all of you along the way. Thank you!” called Nolan, waving his hands. He laughed as he took his place next to Fabia.

Jude kept staring, wracking their brain to see if he’d mentioned anything about being a member of the Elite Four, the night before. But he hadn’t. He’d pretended to be a regular person.

_Bastard._

“Do you know him?” whispered Lark.

Jude grit their teeth. “ _Unfortunately._ ”

“Oh dear,” said Lark, voice barely above a whisper.

“And finally, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. She is the most powerful trainer to ever step foot on our stage. She is the youngest Champion ever crowned, and the only one to outlast all four members of the Elite Four she defeated to get where she is today. I give you, for the eighth year in a row, the brilliant, the beautiful, the undefeated, the indisputable _Queen of Altera,_ Genevieve Harrow!”

The roar was deafening even with the earplugs. Even before she appeared.

From the tunnel came the woman from the night before. Dressed like a queen come to conquer a world, she wore a white cloak-like cape across her shoulders, a v-neck purple shirt, and similar jeans as the night before. Her tall, white boots were polished clean and probably leather, based on the style.

Styled hair, long and shining and pin straight, and eyes that were brilliant as they were intense. The screens zeroed in on those eyes, lingering longer than they had on any other’s.

“Good morning Altera!” called Genevieve, waving her hands. “I’m so glad to see you all. You know, I miss you all when you’re gone.” She giggled as everyone cheered. She hoped up onto the stage without use of the stairs and took a place next to President Sato. “You’re all so wonderful to welcome me back to the stage this year.” She laughed. “You know, I’m not known for always changing my speech. Every year, I say that I see promise in the new trainers. Every year, I say that I hope to find my equal amid the trainers all around us. This year, I mean it more than ever. I truly hope that someone will, one day, overtake me. I crave that more than anything. As Tenzin said, it is lonely where we stand, and I know that loneliness more than most.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her, at waist level, and her smile turned soft. “The Altera League is a powerful one, and one that I am honoured to be a part of. When I started my journey, I couldn’t imagine standing on this stage today, but here I am, and I know in my heart that all of you are capable of the same thing.”

Jude rolled their eyes. If they were all capable of being Champion, then why had she been Champion for almost eight years?

“Somewhere in Altera, perhaps standing before me today, is the person that will take my place. I know who I hope it will be.” Jude glanced at Lark, who dropped their head and hunched their shoulders. Several people around them muttered darkly. “But I cannot know, for certain. My only wish is for all of you to take on the League, do your best, and strive for the top. Thank you.” With that, Genevieve stepped back, taking a spot dead centre, in front of the others, and the ceremony continued.

There were acknowledgements of lost rangers, cheers for sponsors, and the listing of the rules, the last of which Jude had memorized before they left Furrowbury. Then, it was over, and everyone was heading back into the locker rooms.

Someone shoved Lark on the way in and Jude side-stepped them to shove him back. He was a big guy, who growled when he turned, but went pale upon meeting Jude’s gaze, if only for the brief second that Jude could hold it. He scurried off, Jude hung closer to Lark, and the two grabbed their things from the lockers.

“Are you sure you still wanna be around me?” asked Lark, as they gathered their things. “After seeing what people are like to me?”

Jude huffed. They hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it, but Lark’s response to the question about being the next Champion had formed an itch in Jude’s brain that they couldn’t scratch. Something was _odd_ about that response, but Jude couldn’t place it.

Not enough time around trainers. Blessing; curse. Mostly the former, only today the latter.

“Kinda makes me wanna be around you more,” said Jude, opting for honesty. They shrugged on their bag. Rex, and a bunch of other Pokémon, were out and about. Snowdrop sat next to Rex, licking his ears. Rex seemed to be enjoying the attention. Lark’s fingers hesitated on Snowdrop’s Pokéball, frowning.

“Why not leave her out?” asked Jude. “No harm in it.” Jude sealed their locker and stuffed their phone in their pocket.

Lark winced. “Oh, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Jude gestured to the space around them. “Look around. Plenty of less well-behaved Pokémon mucking up the place.” There was a Muk, for instance, making a mess out of a bench. Several fire-types had set a garbage can on fire and Bram the ranger was putting it out with the fire extinguisher. A Sobble clung to the ceiling, crying tears onto a very happy looking Lotad, down on the ground. Next to the Lotad was another Lotad, though this one was upside-down, legs wiggling in the air, useless.

Lark sighed and shrugged on their own, much smaller bag. They brushed their bangs with one hand, though it didn’t seem to do anything.

“I’m held to different standards,” murmured Lark.

“I noticed,” said Jude, a huff in their voice. “People are assholes. Don’t listen to them. Besides, Rex could use a friend. Don’t you think Snowdrop needs one, too?”

Lark opened their mouth, closed it, and looked down at the two Pokémon. They sighed, then gave Jude a tiny smile. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“For what?” asked Jude, nodding toward the locker room doors. They moved, one after the other, Jude clearing the way and Lark following close behind. “Saying Snowdrop needs a friend?”

“For standing up for me,” said Lark. They nodded to an official at the door and passed them, stepping out into the hallway. Bunched up clusters of trainers moved toward the lobby, their voices loud but dimmed by the earplugs that Jude still wore.

“Do you want your earplugs back?” asked Jude, reaching up to pull them out.

Lark shook their head. “No, keep them. Please. I’m glad they helped. …Um, they did help, right?”

“They did,” said Jude. “And… you don’t have to thank me for standing up for you.” Jude fingered their necklaces, frowning. “It’s what any decent person would do.”

Lark ducked their head and sighed. “Then I-I guess I don’t know many decent people.”

“Considering you hang around trainers, that doesn’t surprise me,” replied Jude. They’d been around trainers for what, two hours? Three? And yet they were already proving themselves to be exactly what Jude thought they were: arrogant, competitive assholes.

Arceus.

“You really don’t like trainers,” said Lark. Jude eyed a group of trainers swapping contact info on their phones and went wide around them.

“Not in the least,” said Jude, snorting. They were just about to the lobby, and a crowd of trainers had gathered around several people. League members, based on the booming voice that Jude recognized as Omar’s.

“Why not?” asked Lark.

Jude opened their mouth to respond, then paused. They narrowed their eyes and clicked their jaw shut, everything focusing in on the figure standing in the lobby. All dreadlocks and bright smile and cheerful voice. _Nolan._

Jude pushed forward, moving through the crowd as if it wasn’t there. “You!” they shouted, stabbing a finger at Nolan as they breached the crowd and found themself in the circle of open space between the League members and the crowd. “What is your problem?”

Nolan blinked. “Hi, Jude. Good to see you again.” He beamed, but it was tense in that way Dad’s smiles were when Jude was getting testy with people in town. “Um… what’s the problem?”

“You lied to me,” said Jude. They folded their arms across their chest and scowled. “You said you were just a regular trainer.”

Nolan rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean I said I was a trainer. You made the jump that I was just a regular one. Which, I sort of am.”

Jude’s scowl deepened, teeth grinding against each other. “You’re an ass.” A few people muttered around Jude. They didn’t pay them any mind. “You were so concerned about approaching me in the middle of the night, but then you lied about who you are. What’s your _problem_?” He was a trainer, that was his damn problem. Arceus save them, Jude couldn’t believe they’d thought he was a nice guy.

Served them right, they supposed.

“Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me,” came Lark’s soft voice as they slipped through the crowd and came to stand next to Jude. Rex trotted up next to Jude and leaned against their legs. “Good morning, Nolan.”

“Lark! How’s my favourite short stack?” asked Nolan, grinning. Jude cleared their throat. Nolan sighed and tugged on his dreadlocks a little. “Okay, okay. I get it. I messed up and I’m sorry.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and furrowed his brow. “Why don’t I take you both to lunch? If that’s okay with you, Lark.” His gaze flicked to Lark and so did Jude’s. Lark flushed and nodded. “Great! I’ll take you to lunch, my treat, and explain why I did what I did. Maybe you’ll end up liking me.” Nolan looked at Jude, still smiling.

_Doubtful._ “Fine,” said Jude. They were hungry and hey, free food was always a great time, so long as Jude could avoid crowds. “Nowhere crowded,” they added, because if they didn’t get away from all these people, they were going to _lose it._

Nolan nodded and flashed both a grin and a two thumbs up at Jude. “Great! Let’s go.” He turned to the crowd. “Sorry, folks. As you can see, I have some apologizing to do.” He let out an easy laugh that had Jude’s scowl deepening. How could he be so at ease with so many people around? Jude wanted to claw off their face and tear it into teeny tiny pieces. “I’ll be around later, for chatting and autographs and such. Why don’t you all harass Omar?” Nolan winked. “He’s my favourite.” He glanced at Jude and Lark and beamed. “Come on, let’s go!”

With that, he struck off through the crowd, Jude, Lark, Snowdrop, and Rex following after. Jude glanced at Lark and saw them glance up at them. Lark offered a little smile and Jude let their scowl drop. At least Lark seemed to be on their side. Small help that it was, it made Jude feel better.

And at least they were finally getting away from the crowds, and away from all the other trainers. Even if they were about to eat lunch with one of the biggest trainers in the League.

Jude sighed. Rex rubbed against their legs as they walked. At least once this lunch was over, they could disappear into the woods for a year. They just had to survive a lunch.

How hard could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are adored. Thank you!


	4. A Debate Over Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, we are really getting into the stuff in the early story I was hyped to write. This entire chapter was aggravating but I adored the whole thing once I had it together. Hope you all like it, as well.
> 
> This chapter contains an anger-based autistic meltdown. Just to let you know.

The café was… nice, but also completely different from anything Jude had ever seen before. Old school bricks with elegant black iron twisting through the windows. Iron chairs and iron and glass tables sat outside on the cobblestone patio that had fancy wooden fences that blocked off the patio from the side street that Nolan had led Jude and Lark down. The words painted in the window and stitched into the window dressings were in Kalosian, the script twisting and curly in ways that made it impossible to read.

“Ta-da,” said Nolan, throwing his arms wide and grinning at Lark and Jude. “What do you think?” He swayed on his ankles, beaming at them. Jude raised an eyebrow at him. It was… nice, yes, that was the word. Nice and unfamiliar and quiet. Well, at least he’d taken Jude’s suggestion to heart. Still, they’d imagined somewhere fancier, what with him being Elite Four and all.

“Oh, _Muguet_ ,” said Lark, nodding. “I remember this café. It’s one of Gen’s favourites.” They glanced at Jude, gnawing on their lower lip, and stared up at them with wide eyes. “If you’d rather go elsewhere…”

Jude shrugged. “I’ll be fine.” Food wasn’t a big deal. There were some foods they couldn’t stand - things like yogurt and pudding. Too creamy and too much like rotten milk for comfort. And Jude would rather sell their soul to Darkrai than deal with chicken in anything but finger food form (tenders, strips, nuggets, and the like), but that most likely wouldn’t be a problem.

“It’s a vegan place,” said Nolan, grinning. “My favourite place in all of Dawnmere. You have _got_ to try their mushroom burger. Ooh, or their deep fried tofu.”

Jude blinked. “I’m allergic to soy.”

Nolan blinked back. “Oh. …How allergic? Should we go elsewhere?”

Jude looked up at the sign above the little café. “Long as they don’t cook my food with it, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said Lark, voice small. “This is one of the only vegan places that doesn’t serve nuts.”

“Are you vegan?” asked Jude, looking at Lark.

Lark shook their head. “No. I like cheese too much, and nut allergies make it difficult. Gen, their fiancé, and Nolan are, though.”

Jude blinked. “Your sister has a fiancé?” they asked, cocking their head to one side. That was something they hadn’t known. But then, what did Jude know about Genevieve Harrow other than what they’d seen on the one or two interviews they’d watched, half-aware, on television? Their dad mostly watched the League programs when Jude wasn’t home, because Jude grumbled about them whenever they saw them on TV.

“Shall we?” asked Nolan, giving a sweeping bow and gesturing toward the door. “League members have a standing table, so we’ll have a spot to sit no matter how busy it is, in there.”

Jude frowned. Really? The League members had a permanently reserved table? Wasn’t that kind of… over the top? Did they have one in all restaurants? What if they showed up at a full restaurant without a reserved table? Would they kick someone out? Probably. That seemed like the sort of thing they’d do.

Jerks.

“Sure,” muttered Jude, stuffing their hands into their pockets. They followed Nolan into the café, scowling the entire time. It was one lunch. It was just one stupid lunch. Then they could get away from the League, and the cities, and ignore that this had ever happened.

Ugh.

Inside, the café swelled with the moderate murmurs of quiet conversation. Several people looked up when they walked in, and while the conversation hesitated, it quickly resumed. A bit more hushed, a bit more hurried. A few more side glances. Nolan didn’t seem bothered, but Jude tensed and stuffed their hands deeper into their pockets. A headache twisted at the base of their skull. Too many people. Too much light. Too much noise.

Without anger to mask their surroundings, the anxiety brewed tightly under their skin, waiting for the right time to explode. Too many eyes. Too many eyes.

Too many eyes.

“Mr. Casseus,” said a woman in a long-sleeved white shirt and a fancy looking vest with shiny buttons and a chain attached to the pockets. “Welcome back to _Muguet._ It’s a pleasure to see you again.” She clasped her hands together and smiled in that small, polite way that people in customer service always id. “Are these your guests?”

Nolan nodded. “Yup. Brand new trainers. League table open?”

She nodded. “Yes. No one else has been here yet today. Shall I take you there?”

“Please and thank you,” said Nolan. The woman picked up a handful of menus and led the trio through the café. To the left, away from the door, was a long bar-like counter with multiple bakery displays. The wall behind the counter was filled with bottles whose fancy text was written in Kalosian. That back wall was all exposed, weathered brick. The other walls were windows with wrought iron details and hand-painted frames, and what wasn’t windows was wood panelling up to waist height and floral wallpaper the rest of the way up.

Jude looked around, trying to find any reason to look away from the people. From Nolan. From the hostess lady. But there was too much busyness in this café to keep their focus. Wall art and strange wall sconces and maps of places Jude had never been to. Scent of baked goods and cinnamon and coffee — dark roast. The heaviness on Jude’s tongue said as much.

“Here we are,” said the hostess, drawing Jude back to the present. The booth was tucked into a corner, windows on one side and curtains partially drawn to provide some semblance of privacy. Jude slipped into the seat on one side of the booth, Lark following, and Nolan sat on the other side of the table.

Menus dispersed around. Tall and sleek and laminated. The same fancy writing, the same fancy logo, the same muted colours as out front.

“Drinks?” asked the hostess.

“Water,” said Nolan. Lark and Jude nodded — first Lark, then Jude. Jude’s nod was jerky, unfocused. They latched onto what parts of the world made sense. The give in the booth seats, the scents that were too strong but not strong enough. The way Lark fidgeted with their bangs, with their hands, with their shirt.

The hostess was gone, then, and Nolan watched Lark and Jude with a bright grin.

“It’s great to see you making friends, Lark,” said Nolan. He leaned in the seat, his feet bumping Jude’s under the table before he pulled them back. “You know, your sister and I were worried about that.” He frowned. “You’re always alone. Trainers are meant to travel in packs.”

“Oh,” said Lark, voice tiny. “Um. Jude and I aren’t travelling together.” They glanced at Jude out of the corner of their eye, a little shift of the head that had Jude frowning. “And I don’t know if we’re friends. They just… have helped me a lot.”

Nolan smiled. “I’m fairly certain that’s what friends do, Lark.” He looked to Jude, eyebrows raising. “Wouldn’t you agree, Jude?”

Jude narrowed their eyes. That phrasing always meant a trap. Always. But they couldn’t exactly disagree — not because they worried about how it’d sound, but because he was right. Friends helped each other. Friends stuck together. Friends tried to build the other up. And that was what Jude had done since they’d met Lark.

Strange. Jude couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that for a person, rather than a Pokémon, or their dad. Probably when they were a kid. It’d been probably seven or eight years since Jude had realized the kids in Furrowbury had no interest in being Jude’s friend. They were just looking for someone to laugh at. So, why was Lark different?

A question that had an answer before Jude had even finished asking it.

Because Lark reminded them of _them._ And Lark was small, and vulnerable, and anxious. A person in a position of perceived power that shrunk away from it and worried about every little thing.

Jude’s anxiety came from a lack of understanding, from autism, but they understood Lark nonetheless.

“If you want to be friends,” said Jude after a pause that was maybe too long but fuck social norms. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Lark’s cheeks turned pink and they smiled, tiny but there all the same. Small gestures were more real, more genuine, wasn’t that what Dad always said?

“Okay,” said Lark. They fidgeted with the edge of the menu and said nothing else.

Nolan flipped open the menu with a flourish and grinned. “All right. Now that we know that, let’s pick something to eat.” He clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “This place has a ton of awesome food. I can’t wait to pick something.” He bounced a bit in his seat, dreadlocks swinging. Jude watched them, eyes tracking the red, orange, and yellow dyed dreadlocks that formed an abstract fire whenever he moved his head.

Knowing he was the fire Elite Four turned his hair from a fun, artistic detail to a display of his status in the world. A beacon. It made Jude frown, to know they’d missed that, the night before. That they hadn’t questioned those colours when it seemed everyone in the region knew who Nolan was except Jude.

But they didn’t care about the League. So why did it matter?

Isolation. That was always the answer.

Jude flipped open the menu and scowled when most of the food titles were written in the some curly, barely legible script. And in Kalosian. They let out a quiet huff and settled for squinting at the descriptions of each dish, trying to piece together what they were to see if they’d like anything.

Tofu, tofu, tofu. Were there any dishes without tofu? They would have killed for a nice steak. Not because veganism was _wrong_ , but it wasn’t for them. Not the least of which because they’d grown up around weird, four-legged, unintelligent cows. They knew the process to get meat in Altera. They didn’t know how tofu was made.

Not that they could eat it, anyway.

Not that they’d want to, even if they could. Looked slimy and gross. Like if marshmallows were made of gelatin.

Ugh.

“So, Jude, Lark, where are you two headed after today?” asked Nolan, drumming his fingers on the table. Jude flicked their gaze up, squinting at the fingers. A handful of rings, all silver. None of them distinctive in a way that let Jude know what they meant.

“Dunno,” said Jude. “Don’t care. Probably the woods. Find a cliff. Climb it. Camp up there for a while.” They shrugged and returned their gaze to the menu. More tofu. More soy. Damn it. There had to be _something._ Their stomach growled. Maybe they should go back to the hotel.

“Right, right. You’ve got that whole ‘I don’t need the Pokémon League’ thing going on,” said Nolan. He flapped his hands as he spoke. “You didn’t say a lot about it last night, but I definitely got that impression.”

Jude lifted their chin. Right, they weren’t finding anything to eat. They’d eat before they left. Maybe go to McFarmers. Or Daisy’s.

Stupid soy allergy. Stupid fancy writing.

Stupid too many options.

“I don’t need the Pokémon League,” said Jude. They closed the menu and folded their arms on the table. “There’s no point in trying; I have no interest in trying, and my mental health is pretty great, thank you very much. I’d rather not destroy it like the rest of my peers.” They narrowed their eyes at Nolan. “Not that I’d expect Elite Four to understand the trials and tribulations of us lowly folk.”

Nolan winced and reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ouch. Fair point, but _ouch._ ” He closed his own menu. “All right, so if you don’t want to be a trainer, then what do you want to be? What’s the point in doing the training, getting a license, coming to Dawnmere, if you’re just going to reject everything about it?”

It was surprising, to hear him say it without the judgement so many others had phrased that question with. Just a question. Or maybe it wasn’t, and Jude just couldn’t hear the intonation and subtext over their stomach and the noise all around.

“Trainer classes are mandatory in most small towns,” said Jude. They raised an eyebrow. “Which makes you a city boy.” He winced, but didn’t correct them. “I was the only one in my class to pass, and seeing as there’s only one class of people my age in town…” They shrugged. “Dad said it was a waste, not to go out when I passed. And I wasn’t exactly keen to stay home when the whole town knew I’d passed.”

Be nice to the patients, Jude, Dad had always said. Be nice to the clients. Be nice to your classmates. We will fight back. We will try to stop them. But you can’t stoop to their level. Stop fighting. Stop yelling. Stop throwing your size around.

Well, Dad wasn’t around to stop them, now. Another advantage to being out of Furrowbury. Who’d stop them from picking fights with bigots, now? Rex? Bah. He agreed with Jude most of the time.

The Pokéball on their belt felt heavy. They hated having him away. Stupid café rules. Stupid city rules.

“So, expectations drove you into our world, then?” asked Nolan. He leaned back in his seat and stretched. Lark closed their own menu. A server looked up, almost as if on cue. It was a little creepy. Like they’d been watching the table, ready to be the best servers they could be. Granted, a terrible review from a League member might be devastating. At least, Jude assumed as much. Everyone back home seemed to think that if a League member said your business sucked, you were done. Dad had never been like that. He’d always said that the League members would understand that Dad always attended the most urgent cases, first.

They could be patient, like anyone else.

Nolan hummed. “Seems to me that if you’re letting expectations dictate what you do, then you’re falling into the League culture you seem to think you’re above.” He tilted his head to one side and folded his arms, loosely, across his chest. “What about that?”

Jude frowned. It wasn’t like that. But how did they phrase it to someone who couldn’t possibly understand?

“Small towns don’t have a lot of opportunities for someone like me,” said Jude, voice mostly flat but tinged with a growing anger that they didn’t bother to try and temper. “I’m weird. I’m an outcast. Most of my classmates thought it was funny to pick on me. Their parents were the same. Forgive me for taking advantage of a flawed system to fuck off into the woods for a year and figure out what I actually want to do with my life without impossible normalcy and close-minded dimwits to colour my options.” Their voice grew tighter by the word, until they were speaking almost entirely through their teeth.

Nolan winced and dicked his head. “Didn’t think of it that way.”

“Why would you?” asked Jude, shrugging with one shoulder. “You seem pretty popular.”

“I think I understand,” said Lark, picking at the edge of their menu. They’d almost completely peeled up the lamination in one corner, exposing the pristine paper beneath. “It’s about freedom of choice. The gym challenge carries expectations, but you see the freedom between those rules, and not the restriction within them.” They tilted their head to look at Jude through their hair, never turning their head properly.

Jude nodded. “Yeah,” they said, blinking a few times. Huh. “Besides, just because I have a license doesn’t mean I need to use it. Coordinators need them, so do rangers, so do researchers. For me, it’s just a good excuse to travel.”

“So thats your plan?” asked Nolan. “Just to travel? You don’t have any other wants?” He folded his arms behind his head, now. A server came up. He was a skinny, olive-skinned man with large hands and small hair.

“What can I get for you all, today?” he asked. Their drinks still hadn’t arrived. Both Lark and Nolan gave their orders in Kalosian, Lark’s much better accented than Nolan’s, or so Jude assumed, based on what they’d heard on TV.

At the server’s look, Jude shrugged. “I’m good,” they said. Even if there were dishes without tofu, Jude hadn’t gotten far enough into the menu to find them. There were too many options and too many unfamiliar dishes. Was the kitchen separated enough that soy wouldn’t end up in their food, anyway? Cross-contamination was a huge risk. Jude didn’t bother to smile. They just handed their menu to the server and slumped in their seat, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“You sure?” asked Nolan. “I did say it was my treat.” There was a tinge to his voice that Jude couldn’t place. “Jude…”

“I said I was fine,” snapped Jude, anger bubbling over before they could stop it. They dropped their gaze to the table and ground their teeth together hard enough to hurt. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” said Nolan. A shuffle as the server took the other menus and left. Another as another approached and set down their waters. Well, at least Jude would be hydrated.

They missed Rex.

Silence. Awkward and heavy, if Jude had to guess. Their fault. A grimace. Damn it. Of course they’d ruined the good parts of this stupid journey, already. Lark had been cool and Nolan was a bit of a tool, but he seemed kinda nice. They’d probably never want to talk to Jude, after this. Well, there went that idea.

What was it they’d told Nolan? That all they needed was themself and Rex? That was true, even if it was bitter. At least they hadn’t gotten their hopes up. No point with people.

“So, uh, Lark. Are you gonna be heading to Windwick after you’re done here?” asked Nolan. “Take on Moira and see what you’re made of?”

Lark shrunk a little in their seat. “Um…”

“Lark!” Jude went rigid at the shout that ripped through the café. Upbeat, happy, but too loud and too close. Jude twitched their head to one side and saw Genevieve striding toward them, waving one arm in the air. In her other hand, she held onto a pair of bags that looked like they’d come out of a boutique store. “There you are. I thought I saw a Tweet that you two were here.” A pause as she looked at Jude. “Oh! From last night. Hi.”

Jude narrowed their eyes. Great. Fantastic. This day was just getting better. Champion at lunch. And Jude didn’t have any food to distract themself with. Fucking great.

“Mind if I sit?” asked Gen, already sliding into the seat next to Nolan. She set down her bags and scooted in close, beaming at everyone. “Oh, I’m so excited for you, Lark. You’re finally a trainer. Are you excited? Of course you’re excited. Windwick here you come.” She bounced a little in her seat.

Lark shrank a little further, tilting their head. Their bangs fell across their face. “Yes. It’s exciting.” They spoke into the table, cheeks red even in their shield of hair. Jude’s frown deepened. Huh.

“Well, I think you did great today,” said Gen, beaming. A server came over and looked at Gen, eyes wide. “Oh, hi. My usual order is written on the kitchen board. I’d like that and some sparkling lemonade. Thank you.”

The server nodded and scurried away, whispering to other servers as they went.

Genevieve hummed and shifted in her seat, crossing her legs at the knee. She laced her fingers together on her knee and leaned back. Regal, poised, cape and hair flowing perfectly. Nothing out of place that didn’t look purposeful. Were there people hiding around corners or behind curtains, waiting for Genevieve to mess something up? Ready to fix whatever part of her they needed to fix? A secret staff sounded reasonable, from what Jude knew of her.

Or was she just _that_ perfect and poised? Eight years on camera probably made her pretty good at staying perfect.

Maybe she had just always been like that. All glowing and shit. Arceus blessed or the like.

“So, Jude, I see you’re a new trainer as well,” said Genevieve, smiling in that sickly sweet way that so many in power did. Jude frowned. “Are you excited for your chance to take on the League and face me at the end of it?” She wiggled her shoulders.

Jude huffed. “Not really. I don’t plan on facing the League. It’s not my goal.”

“Oh?” Genevieve’s voice went a little high. “Then what is your goal?”

Jude shrugged. “Dunno, yet. I don’t have a real goal for my future, right now.”

Genevieve frowned, but before she could say anything, Nolan piped in with questions about all the new League rules for the year. As Genevieve turned to talk to him, Jude let themself relax.

Thank Arceus.

Minutes passed and their food arrived, as well as a loaf of pre-sliced bread. It looked good, and it was something Jude could eat — who the fuck put soy in bread, after all — so they snagged a slice and put it on the tiny appetizer plate that was on the table.

“You know,” said Genevieve, as she spun her black noodles around her fork. “I think that you should rethink your goals, Jude. Having a plan for your future is important, and you’d have plenty of support on the road. The League has made some wonderful strides toward inclusiveness, especially in the last two years. Disabled trainers have never had a better chance at the League titles.”

Jude raised both eyebrows, holding the bread between their fingertips. “What makes you think I’m disabled?” they asked. They were, obviously, but they wanted to know. Wanted to see where Genevieve was pulling her outdated ideas from.

Genevieve’s smile turned strained. “Well, I… um…” She hesitated.

Jude snorted, tearing at the bread on their little plate. It wasn’t the right texture. It was too grainy and too scratchy and they wanted nothing to do with it. They tossed it down onto the plate and flicked their gaze up to the furrowed brow, wrinkled nose expression on Genevieve’s face.

“You know, I take it back. I do have some ideas for my future,” said Jude. Their gaze flitted across Genevieve’s face. To the freckles not quite covered by foundation. To the hoop earrings that had tiny Jirachi hanging within. To the twitch and tensing of her shoulders as Jude spoke.

Fact: Genevieve Harrow did not like Jude. Jude didn’t need their social skills books to figure that out.

They wondered how much worse it would be before this conversation was over. Before this lunch was over. Yet, even in wondering, Jude found they didn’t care.

Champion. Hero. Most celebrated person in all of Altera. She could handle one tiny, insignificant trainer not liking her, even if it was to her face.

“What’s that?” asked Nolan.

Jude’s mouth twitched up on one side. “Yeah. I don’t know what I wanna be, but I know what I _don_ _’t_ wanna be.” They let their gaze flit across Nolan’s forehead, to his ear. “You two.”

Genevieve huffed. “Excuse me. That’s incredibly rude.”

Nolan let out a huff through his nose that sounded more like a laugh than anything else. “Aw, lighten up, Gen. I’m sure Jude didn’t mean anything by it. So what if they have different goals than us? That doesn’t make them less valid. Look,” Nolan twirled his fork in midair and grinned, “if they’re so determined not to be Elite Four or Champ, what’s the big deal?”

Genevieve huffed again. “I don’t understand why they have to be so _rude_ about it. I don’t go around telling people that if they don’t try out the gym challenge, they’re wrong.”

“Except, you do,” said Jude, stabbing a finger across the table. “You just did, in fact. You take personal offense to my not wanting to be part of the League, and yet it has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m the Champion,” said Genevieve, in a tone that had Jude narrowing their eyes. “I’d say you not wanting to be part of the challenge has everything to do with me. Forgive me for taking personal offense at you not wanting to be part of something that is a significant part of my life.” She folded her arms on the table and narrowed her eyes. “What’s so terrible about the League that you so openly despise it?”

Well, thought Jude, _she asked._

“It’s not _just_ the League, it’s the culture,” said Jude, leaning forward on the table. They gestured with both hands, trying not to focus on the weird grit of the bread crumbs against their fingertips. “Everywhere you go, you see teenagers being told to join the gym challenge, to strive for greatness. You see kids being pressured to learn how to become trainers. You see this competitive _thing_ stemming from this challenge reaching kids who won’t be able to partake in it for a decade — and that’s assuming they pass the tests.” Jude clenched their hands into fists. “There’s this pressure, this stupidly high pressure, to become a trainer and go for the title of Champion. And if they fail to get into the gym challenge? They’re shunned, mocked. And if you get in but don’t want to do it, you’re ostracized.”

Fucking Furrowbury.

Jude ground their teeth together. “And if they do get in — which is a hard thing to do, mind you — then they spend years fighting against hundreds of other people fighting to win this impossible title.” Jude waved their hands around, trying to snatch the words out of their mind. “There’s… Arceus, okay. The League has one Champion, four Elite Four, eight main gym leaders, and ten more on standby. Then you have gym trainers, substitutes, officials, and all the people behind the scenes who don’t get near enough credit.” Jude let one hand drop to the table and scowled. “But at the end of the day, the dream sold to everyone, across the whole region, isn’t to become an official, or a coordinator, or a ranger; it’s the role of _Champion._ Something that is basically impossible.”

Genevieve frowned at Jude. “I did it.” She leaned forward on her arms. “I think you’re being a bit overdramatic.”

Of course she did. Everyone did. Because no one _understood._

“You’ve held that title for almost eight years,” said Jude. They let out a frustrated, soft huff and scrubbed their fingers back through their curls. “I don’t…” They flapped one hand in the air, trying to shake out the words. Nolan and Genevieve both watched their hand, but Jude couldn’t bring themself to care. If they stopped now, they’d never start again. “There’s twenty three official on-stage positions in the League. Only thirteen of which anyone cares about. Thirteen people. Something like six hundred trying every year. Plus the ones who keep their licenses active and do the challenge for years on end. Because, you know, it takes _multiple years_ to beat all eight gyms.”

They were getting off target. Off track. They needed to refocus.

Deep breath. Regroup. “I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the concept of Pokémon journeys or the League. My problem isn’t with that. Training, battling, growing as a team, it’s all important. The very idea of a journey,” Jude clenched their hands together in front of them, “as a tool of personal growth and a way to understand yourself on a fundamentally deeper level is brilliant. That’s what I’m doing. The problem, the _issue_ , is that it isn’t about the journey. It isn’t about the growth or the socialization or the personal discovery. It’s become a grind to be the very best, no matter the cost.”

“But the very idea of becoming the very best is part of the culture of the Pokémon League,” said Genevieve. She swirled her black noodles around her fork with a sort of style and poise that had Jude frowning and wondering all at once. And they frowned, too, because Genevieve seemed to be completely missing the point. Did she even hear herself? Or anyone _but_ herself? “Our culture is built on the idea that anyone can be Champion. That anyone can succeed and rise to the top if they simply work hard enough. Isn’t that something to celebrate? Without this culture that you hate so much, do you truly believe that people would continue to work as hard as they do to become better trainers? To protect our region? To be more than themselves?”

Jude took a breath. If they started yelling, they’d get kicked out. Yelling was for public places where getting kicked out didn’t matter. And ending up on the front page of some news site for screaming at the Champion wasn’t going to let them lay low. Nope.

“Yes, I do. Plenty of people who don’t care about training work hard. They do things just to help, just because they want to.” Jude huffed out a breath. “You know what I really think? I think if we got rid of this competitive nonsense and grind mentality, more trainers would stop giving up. More trainers would stop destroying their physical and mental health for the sake of an impossible dream. More trainers wouldn’t lose their drive because there wouldn’t be so many teenagers realizing that the dream they’ve been sold their whole lives is just an impossible lie to commercialize what should be a peaceful, introspective process.”

Nolan nodded. “Well put.” He cocked his head in Genevieve’s direction. “You know, Gen, I hate to tell you this, but I really do think I’m leaning more toward Jude in this. When I started training, I had so many friends with me, and they all took it so seriously that it killed them once they started hitting roadblocks. I went in wanting to have fun and only got serious when I realized I was good, and I wish more of my friends had done that. So many of them just… stew with it now. With this idea that they’re losers, failures, for not being able to do something no one’s been able to do since you took the stage as Champion.” He propped his cheek in one hand. “Maybe if it was just about the journey, that wouldn’t have happened.”

Jude nodded and latched onto Nolan’s words. “Precisely. What’s wrong with just enjoying the journey?” They stabbed a finger into the table. “Why does it have to be a competitive race through a minefield toward some epic goal that only one in a million people is ever going to accomplish?”

“I think the odds are slightly better than one in a million.” Genevieve’s voice was tight and the corners of her mouth pinched down into a frown. Another social skills diagram. This one: restraint. Genevieve took a visible breath and her shoulders lowered from where they’d risen up near her ears. It was a good trick, and one Jude envied. “And I must say, I completely disagree with everything you’ve said, Jude. It was that precise ‘impossible dream’, as you call it, that drove me to become the woman I am today.” She set down her fork and spread her hands in a gesture not unlike the ones she did on TV. “I started my journey as a young, orphaned girl trying to take care of my younger sibling. If not for that dream the League so kindly ‘sold me’, as you put it, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to keep going and find out what I was capable of. And, frankly, I don’t know what would have happened to myself and Lark, in that case.”

Jude frowned and fought the urge to smack their hand off the table. So one person was supposed to make the whole thing worth it? One person having it work when hundreds if not thousands of others had failed suddenly made it better?

“But why do you need external motivation?” asked Jude, words tumbling out and overlapping one another. “Why can’t you just set yourself a goal and work toward it because _you_ want it, rather than because everyone says you should do it? What’s to stop you from achieving things without some corporation trying to sell your dream to you?”

Genevieve’s frown wrinkled her nose. “Well, let’s look at the reverse, then. Why can’t those who don’t want to be Champion simply ignore the culture that says they have every right to try?” asked Genevieve. There was that phrasing, again. Dismissal. Subtle, but there all the same. Qualifiers upon qualifiers.

More social skills homework.

Jude grit their teeth and breathed through their nose. “It’s different. Why can’t you see that?” Their voice went hard. Nolan’s eyes widened. _Don_ _’t yell, don’t yell, don’t yell._ The voice in their head sounded like Dad. They’d yelled earlier. They couldn’t yell now.

Newspapers, blogs, all sorts of online nonsense. People would stare.

So much for anonymity.

_Breathe, Jude. Breathe._

“How is it different?” asked Nolan, a prompt if Jude had ever heard one.

Jude breathed. “Culture and cultural expectations are completely different from your own, personal dreams. It’s one thing if people want to be the best, if they want to join the League, if they want to go for gold and try to become Champion. It’s one thing if people work together to compete and drive themselves forward. It’s one thing for the League to say ‘if this is what you really, really want, above all else, there’s a chance you can do it.’ It’s another thing entirely to take that idea, that dream, and commercialize it. To push it forward until it’s all that matters. To force that expectation on every child in the region until they think that if they don’t want to become Champion, something’s _wrong_ with them.”

“Without that expectation,” said Genevieve, the moment Jude stopped, “a lot of good people would never find the drive to become the great members of the League they are today.”

“Without that expectation,” retorted Jude, fists clenched in their lap, below the table, “a lot of trainers who quit on the road due to feeling inadequate or like failures may have found satisfaction in simply enjoying the journey.”

Genevieve sighed. “I simply don’t see the issue with the current League culture. Nothing you’ve said to me rings true of my experiences both as a trainer and as a member of the League.” She twirled her fork in midair in a circle. If it had been closer to her ear, Jude would have assumed Genevieve was implying they were crazy.

Maybe she still was.

“Yes, so the odds aren’t exactly fifty-fifty,” said Genevieve, oblivious to Jude’s annoyance, “but they aren’t nearly as bad as you say, even on a bad day. If someone truly wanted to join the League, then I believe that they should have hope to back up their dream. A drive to push them forward. Our current culture provides that.”

“But the odds are horrible,” said Jude, smacking one hand off their leg. Lark jumped. Jude fought a wince. They’d almost forgotten Lark was there. “Just because you say they aren’t doesn’t make it any less true. The odds of someone becoming a League member, let alone Champion, are abysmal. I don’t see the point in giving people false hope only to have it whip them in the face and hurt them down the road.”

Genevieve smiled at them and Jude wanted to rip it off her face. “I suppose that’s where we disagree, then,” said Genevieve in a voice so calm it sounded patronizing.

“That there’s nothing wrong with false hope?” asked Jude, sarcasm and disbelief blending in their voice.

“That there _is_ such a thing as false hope,” replied Genevieve, with a light, easy shrug. “Hope is a beautiful, brilliant thing, Jude. I can’t see how it could ever be bad.”

Jude scowled. Of course there was such a thing as false hope. Of course it was fucking real. Had this woman ever truly known hardship? Or was she just another child playing grown-up, aged into a body she didn’t deserve simply because time didn’t discriminate against those who chose to remain children forever?

False hope. Bah. It was real. And it _burned._

It was being told your mother was coming home when the rangers couldn’t even find enough of her to bury.

It was being told that you could achieve anything you set your mind to, never mind that disability could create limits, never mind that illness could create more.

It was being told you’d make friends at school, that of course people would like you if you just were yourself, only for people to stare and whisper, to mock and tease. To let you in only to laugh later while you cried and cried and cried.

False hope existed.

It hurt.

And it killed.

Yet the one fucking sob story in Altera that managed to make it big was supposed to change that? As if.

“Hope is bullshit,” said Jude, the words bitter on their tongue. “You don’t need hope to keep going. You need drive. Curiosity. Reason. Purpose. Hope just gets you killed, thinking you have it better than you do.” They nudged Lark until Lark stood and slid out of the booth, grabbing their bag on the way out. “Considering I didn’t eat, I think I’m done. I have a journey to go on, even if it’s one _you_ think is pointless.” They gave Genevieve a flat look.

Genevieve sighed. It was the sigh of a dozen adults in Furrowbury that always sighed when Jude got upset and stormed off, or so they said. Disappointment.

Jude fought the urge to say ‘fuck you’.

Their journey was valid. Their journey was the journey they wanted. A way to understand themself, their Pokémon, and their place in the world. A way to find out what they wanted from life. That was the whole reason Jude had agreed to it, wasn’t it? To get out of Furrowbury. To explore Altera. To get away from the jerks back home. The classmates who were jealous that Jude got a license and they didn’t. Like it was Jude’s fault they were shitty trainers. That they weren’t smart enough. That they hadn’t worked hard enough. As if Jude hadn’t worked day and night to pass some of those classes. To get those marks. Marks people claimed were because they were “cheating because autism” or “the League was going easy on you, because autism”.

Fucking Furrowbury.

“Hope and faith have a lot in common,” said Genevieve, folding her hands in her lap. And fuck her for making Jude feel so much bigger, so much clumsier, so much meaner, than they actually were. With her stupid idealized angelic features and soft face. The things that people looked for in those they trusted.

Not big hands and a bigger mouth and an anger problem.

“I don’t have much use in faith,” said Jude. “Faith puts people in a bubble. And if you meet someone not in that bubble, you crush them. That’s all it does. That’s all it’s ever done.”

Genevieve’s smile was sad. Her gaze dropped but her head didn’t. “I forget, sometimes.”

“That organized religion fucking sucks?” asked Jude, snark out in full force.

“That there’s more than one way to experience hardship,” said Genevieve. She lifted her gaze. Her expression was flat, but pinched. A shadow in her eyes. “Perhaps you should keep that in mind, as well. Not everyone thinks the way you do.”

Jude bit their tongue so hard they tasted blood.

“Yeah, you know what? I’m done. Go be a piece of shit to someone else,” said Jude. “Don’t even fucking listen to what I say.” They stepped forward, towering over Genevieve, and _growled._ “And yeah, I know people don’t think the way I do, genius. _It_ _’s called autism._ ” With that, they turned and stalked out of the café, civilians and blogs be damned.

Fuck this city. Fuck the Champion. And fuck ever hoping this lunch would go well.

Jude needed to hit something.

— —

There were no walk-in, no memberships gyms in Dawnmere. Everything cost money. At least the stupid GPS app told them as much before Jude started marching into gyms. Instead, they released Rex from his ball and made for the edge of the city. Surely, there were woods around here somewhere.

The answer was northeast, away from the roads and other cities. An hour of walking and seething and riding public transportation, growling at anyone who came near. Another half hour pushing their way to the edge of the city before they found a trail leading off into the woods. They stalked through it, waiting until all the people faded, anger turning their vision hazy and red-tinted, turning their hearing to nothing but ringing and the beat of their heart, turning their head into a pounding drum and a pile of mush all in one.

They found a clear space and let it all out. Screaming and ranting and swearing. Cursing Genevieve up and down as they kicked at branches and tore the trees apart. As they punched bark until their fingers bled and their knuckles split. Tore at the world until it all faded into nothing but rhythmic destruction.

 _Don_ _’t bash your head_ , whispered what was left of Dad.

They wanted to. Arceus, they wanted to. The world made more sense when they beat their head off something hard. When they made it hurt their way instead of the way the world wanted. But no, they’d promised. They’d promised. They’d promised.

So instead they split their hands and tore the trees and screamed until they lost their voice. Until tears and blood intermingled and they collapsed against a rock, shaking and sobbing from it all.

Head bowed, knees up, arms draped over knees. Rex curled into their side and licked at their bloody hand. At least they had a first aid kit.

“Fuck, Rex,” breathed Jude. “ _Fuck_. Why did I think I could avoid it?” They tilted their head to look at him and found their eyes stinking from too-salty tears. Dehydrated, then. Made sense. Clinical observation at a distance from the roil of emotion and pain that tore through them.

Cool trick. Not a good one, though.

“What do you think the odds are? Me having to talk to the fucking Champion on my first day as a trainer?” They tilted their head back and let out a bitter laugh that blurred itself into a chuckle and then a hoarse sob. Anger, the League officials had said. Irrational, explosive anger due to ASD. A symptom. A trait. A weakness. If they couldn’t control it, the officials had said, it could land them in jail. If they couldn’t control it, they’d lose their trainer license.

Did punching trees count as controlling it or losing it?

Either way, score one for Jude and zero for the trees.

Poor trees.

They sat there for a while, willing the bleeding and tears to stop falling. Eventually, they did. Jude wasn’t sure how long they’d been out there. The sun was past overhead, though. Past lunch but not yet to dinner. A couple hours, then.

A shuffle in the trees. Jude tilted their head as Rex pushed himself to his feet, mouth glowing and hackles raising.

Lark walked out of the trees.

Jude and Rex both stared. Lark stared back.

“Um. Hi,” said Lark, waving with one of their almost comically small hands. They were so _tiny._ Everything about Lark was tiny.

Jude was definitely entering post-anger hysteria. The weird sort of half-manic emotions that swung up and down while their brain tried to recalibrate after so much anger and crying. Not exactly something they wanted someone else to witness.

“Lark?” The word sounded hoarse in Jude’s ears. Ragged. “What are you— how did you find me?”

“Well, there’s only one obvious direction into the woods without entering a route or the water,” said Lark, rocking on their heels, hands clasped in front of them. Their bangs hid the top halves of their eyes. “And the trails are most secure way into the woods. After that I just… followed the screaming.” A pause. “And destruction.”

Jude blinked. “I’ve been done for a while.”

Lark rubbed the back of their neck. “Yeah I sorta. Asked around. People heard you and ran off. I told them I knew you and they pointed me this way.” Lark flushed. “I’ve been looking for a bit.”

“Why?” asked Jude.

Lark blinked and cocked their head, owlish. “Pardon?”

“Why?” There was no other way to phrase it. No words that’d elaborate. Or, if there were, they refused to fall from Jude’s mind and onto their lips.

“You were upset,” said Lark. “You were upset, and alone, and in an unfamiliar place. I didn’t…” They hesitated, sighed, unclasped their hands and slumped like a puppet with its strings cut. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why?” That word, again.

Lark stared, wide-eyed and soft and concerned in a way that Jude had never seen before. They held their breath and waited for Lark to speak.

“Because you were nice to me,” said Lark. “And you didn’t care whose sibling I was, or what I was supposed to do, or who I knew. You were nice to me, because you liked me. Or, I think you did. Thought, you did. After what my sister said, I wouldn’t blame you for hating me.”

Jude snorted, despite themself. “Why the hell would I judge you on your sister? Seems she talks over you, too.” And she did, didn’t she? Jude had witnessed that.

“She means well,” said Lark. “But she’s wrong, about you, about what you said. You’re right. I just… was too scared to say anything, back there.” Another pause. “I’m sorry.”

Lark believed them. Lark believed them and had come after them. Jude didn’t know what to say to that.

“I…” Jude trailed off. Rex whined and pressed in close. He looked from Lark, to Jude, and back to Lark. His fur still risen in places.

“Nolan wanted to come after you, too,” said Lark, tugging at their hair with one hand. “But he had to deal with—” They stopped, gnawed on their lower lip, and sighed. “You look hurt. Is it okay if I help patch you up? Or would you rather I leave?”

Jude blinked. “Yeah.” That didn’t make sense. “You can, I mean. Help. If you want to.”

Lark nodded and shuffled over to Jude, sitting down in front of them. With Jude’s instructions, Lark unzipped Jude’s bag, which they’d dropped next to a rock before they’d lost it, and pulled out the first aid kit. As they cleaned and wrapped Jude’s wounds, they spoke.

“Trainer culture can be awful. People put such heavy expectations on you and it can feel like y-you’re suffocating,” said Lark. There was that stutter again. Nerves? Old tic? Wrong time to ask. Probably. Maybe. “And then no one listens when you cry for help. No one hears you drowning.” They stared at Jude’s hands as they worked, hair and angle hiding their face. “You just… go under. And you think maybe if you go with the flow, people will notice you. People will see. Maybe the weight won’t be so bad. Maybe if you swim _with_ the tide, it won’t pull you u-under.” They looked up, cheeks flushed. “Sorry, that doesn’t make any sense. I crossed so many metaphors.”

“No, it does,” said Jude. And it did. Lark crossed metaphors the way Jude did, mixing them together into a kind of soup that only they could comprehend. “You don’t want to be Champion.”

Lark sighed, body sagging as if Jude had pulled a great weight off them. “No. I don’t.” They looked up again, a sort of nervous, trembling smile on their face. “And I think you’re the only person I’ve ever told that.”

“You’ve known me for a day,” said Jude. But they felt it, too. Two people thrust into a world they hated. Of course they’d bond. Jude had been wrong about Lark. So wrong. They hated this all as much as Jude did. Why hadn’t they noticed before? Were there signs, before? There must have been. Signs Jude had missed because the books didn’t give them those clues to look for.

“Feels like longer,” whispered Lark. They still didn’t look at Jude. “Feels like you’re the first person to ever really… see me. If that makes sense.”

“Perfect sense,” murmured Jude, because they felt it too. Not the same way, maybe. Not the same depth. But it was there, that quiet understanding. That idea that maybe they understood each other better than those around them.

Hadn’t Jude been ready to give up on Lark, a couple hours ago? Felt strange, now, knowing Lark hated the culture as much as they did. Was forced into it more than maybe anyone else in the whole region.

“So, why do it?” asked Jude. “Why try?”

“What choice do I have?” asked Lark. “What about you? Why take on a journey knowing no one else will understand why you’re doing it?”

Jude let a bitter smile twitch onto their face. “What choice do I have?” they echoed. With a shrug, “Home is shit. My dad’s great, but Furrowbury is shit and if I can get out, I want to get out and stay out.” They sighed and cocked their head at Lark, who was finishing wrapping Jude’s left hand. It hurt more than their right one, which sucked, but also made sense. Dominant hands and all that. “What about you? Why don’t you have a choice?”

“Thought it was obvious,” murmured Lark. “My sister’s the Champion. I’ve been hailed as the next one for years. If I don’t, I’ll let the whole region down. Not to mention Gen…” Lark sighed. “She’d probably never speak to me again.”

“Don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” muttered Jude. Then, with a grimace. “Sorry.” Not appropriate. Families were family. Even if they sucked, sometimes. People got touchy about families unless they started the shit-talking.

“No, it’s okay. I understand,” said Lark. “I think you’re all good. Unless you hurt anything else.” Jude shook their head. “Okay, you’re all patched up then.” Lark started on packing up the first aid supplies. “And… Gen is a good person, really. She wouldn’t be so beloved if she wasn’t. But her opinions are in line with everyone else, and ours aren’t. We’re the outliers.”

“Doesn’t make us bad people.” Jude huffed as they spoke, watching Lark work.

“Maybe,” said Lark. They sighed. “Um… we’ve gotten really personal in one day.”

“It’s the mental illness,” said Jude, tone dry and only a little joking.

Lark giggled. “I guess that makes sense.” Then, “Thank you. For listening. I don’t ever get to talk about this.”

“Likewise,” said Jude. A hesitation. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this.” They tilted their head as a way to gesture to everything around them. To the blood on the trees, to the broken branches, to everything else. To themself. “It’s… people get scared.” Jude dropped their gaze to their wrapped hands and took a deep, shuddering breath. “They get scared because they think I’m violent. I’m big. I’m strong. They think I’ll hurt them.” Jude clenched their hands into fists, vision blurring with tears that stung so badly that more tears gathered from them. Cycle, start.

Lark rested their hands atop Jude’s.

“I don’t hurt people,” said Jude. They grimaced. “Well, not usually. I fight. I attack. But I only go after _bad_ people. Regular people have nothing to fear. And I don’t start fights. I just finish them. I want to stop the people I go after. I want them scared. I want them to shut up, because—” Jude stopped. “I guess I am violent.”

They were. Of course they were. They always wanted to fight. But this? This wasn’t violence the way they preferred it. This was uncontrolled and animalistic, a display of pain.

“Maybe,” said Lark. “I don’t know you well enough to say otherwise. But you don’t scare me. And this looks like you’re hurting, not trying to hurt others.” Lark tilted their head to stare up at them with their swirling, multi-coloured eyes. “If you wanted to hurt others, you wouldn’t have left. If you wanted to hurt my sister, you would have stayed.” Lark squeezed their hands against Jude’s. The touch was dulled by the bandages. “I don’t know if that helps, but that’s what I saw.”

“You also saw me try to attack a guy at the stadium,” said Jude.

Lark winced. “Okay, yeah. There’s that.”

“Still think he deserved it,” muttered Jude.

Lark shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve never had to make decisions like that before.” Lark leaned back, taking their hands from Jude’s. Jude shook theirs out, flexing them to deal with the pain and numbness that spread intermittently through their hands. “But you have reasons, and I think I want to learn them. If that’s okay.”

Jude managed a small smile, despite everything. “Yeah. I think that’s okay.” They glanced up at the sky. “Don’t think I’m going back to the city, though. Might just curve around and head south, see if the art museum in Evemawr is as good as people say it is.”

Lark giggled. “It’s better.” Then, “I should get back to my sister. She worries.” A hesitation, as common as speaking, now. “Be safe?”

“I will,” said Jude, nodding. They lifted their head, watching Lark stand. “You stay safe, too. Maybe I’ll see you on the road.”

Lark’s smile was bitter. “Oh, it won’t be hard. I’m sure I’ll be on the news every time I hit a new city.” They sighed. “Bye, Jude.”

“Bye, Lark.”

They watched as Lark disappeared into the forest and headed back to the city. Once they were gone, Jude looked down at Rex and stroked his fur. He whined, nuzzling Jude, the anxiety clear in his tensed body. He always worried when Jude went off. Not about getting hurt, but about Jude. Or at least, that was what Jude had gathered.

“What do you think, buddy? Time to head out?” asked Jude. Rex barked and licked at Jude’s bandaged hand, his tail wagging slowly behind him.

Again, despite everything, Jude smiled. They pushed themself to their feet and picked up their bag.

“Right then, let’s get going.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started brainstorming the character of Jude, I took some time to ask myself what I wanted to see in autism representation that I’d never really seen before. One of those things was anger. Autistic people, including myself, can deal with incredible, debilitating, irrational anger as a symptom/trait of autism, often caused by sensory overload, confusion, or miscommunication. Growing up autistic, and having autistic friends, this is something I’ve seen often, but never in fiction. The fact is, this anger exists, and it’s an important facet of some autistic people’s experiences. That’s not to say this anger is a good thing, only that it exists and that it’s important to acknowledge.
> 
> Another thing I wanted to see was unintentional self-harming behaviours. We see the more classic autistic trait of self-harm with head slapping, which Jude has done and thinks about, but that’s not the only way it manifests. Lashing out in this way is also a form of self-harm.
> 
> So, these two things are part of Jude’s character, because it’s what I wanted to see in representation, and it’s what I wanted to showcase. Because not all meltdowns are just yelling, and not all frustrations are internal. Sometimes autistic people can be violent, just like anyone else. And this is something Jude is going to have to deal with, throughout the story, and work on.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
>  **Chapter Three Fact:**  
>  The current Pokémon League ruleset and general attitude came about approximately twelve years ago, after the Ultra Beast attack. This was when the trainer age was raised from thirteen to sixteen. However, the four year rotating gym leader cycle has existed in Altera for almost sixty years. In the last five years, many other regions have begun to adopt the ‘cycle’ method to ensure gym leaders are always at their peak and do not suffer burn out.
> 
>  **Chapter Four Fact:**  
>  While therapy and mental health services are free and easily available in cities, such care is not easily available in small towns and rural communities, beyond remote services. However, even remote services can be limited, due to the high demand. Because of this, while it is a common assumption that all those who require therapy or guided help with personal growth and wellness will find it, this is not the truth. In fact, over half of all rural community members in Altera who require mental health services will not, and cannot, receive help until they leave home and come to the city. This lowers the number of mentally disabled and mentally ill adults in rural communities, leading to ill and disabled youth in those communities feeling isolated and misunderstood, thus creating a cycle.


	5. A Cry for Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into the thick of it, folks. Today: Lark's POV, more plot, and lots of fun developments. This chapter picked up almost a thousand words in edits. I have no regrets. I adore the interactions in it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Dinner in the woods, walking in the woods, shifting down to Route 16, on the path that led from Dawnmere to Evemawr. Sleep in the woods, rise in the woods. Away from people. Away from noise. Away from the grind that so many fell victim to.

Jude laid on their back on their second day as a trainer, the day after the opening ceremony, on the second of July, and let out a deep, full-bodied sigh. Their arms were splayed out at their sides, the grass tickling their hands and cheeks and neck. The morning sun shone down, warming their skin and leaving them humming, eyes half closed as they stared up at the blue sky, at the swaying leaves and branches, and at the Pokémon that fluttered by. Pidgey, a handful of Ledyba, the telltale flash of Caterpie and Burmy and Weedle. Plus the occasional burst of non-Pokémon creatures.

Bugs and a handful of birds. Things too small for Jude to know or see properly.

Rex was curled against their side, his chin resting on their chest. He warmed what few parts of Jude were still cold. His breathing was the slow, even huffs of sleep, and he grumbled whenever Jude shifted, so Jude knew his sleep was light.

They hadn’t bothered with a tent, last night. Just found a clearing and a tree and set up their camp stove and sleeping bag. A night that was quiet in the way Jude loved — filled with the noises of nocturnal Pokémon going about their business and daytime Pokémon sleeping in the trees and the underbrush.

The morning made it all the more worth it. Seeing the sun crest the trees and shine through the branches and leaves, seeing the way the Pokémon woke up and started about their day. Smelling the flowers and the sap and the quiet musk of dirt and grass.

With a sigh, Jude stretched, closed their eyes, and took a deep breath. They shoved themself upright, the grass soft and the ground hard beneath their hands. Rex huffed, sliding off Jude, and nudged his nose against Jude’s wrist, his hot breath tickling against their arm.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Jude, lifting a hand to scritch him between the ears. “Sorry for that, buddy.” He huffed again and leaned further into Jude’s ministrations, before turning and trotting off into the underbrush to do his business. Jude rolled their eyes and slid out of their sleeping bag, pulling on their boots before pushing themself to their feet.

They stretched and yawned again as they walked over to the tree they’d hung their food from. The airtight containers were wrapped in burlap sacks that had been treated with scents meant to deter Pokémon and bugs alike. Still, there was a Caterpie passed out atop the hanging sack and Jude shook their head, hands on their hips as they looked up at the Pokémon.

Well. They couldn’t exactly drop the Caterpie to the ground with the rest of their stuff.

“Excuse me,” Jude called up to the dozing Caterpie. “You think you could move? I need to get my stuff.” The Caterpie didn’t move. Jude sighed and lifted one hand to rub the back of their head. They combed their fingers through their hair, hat still resting next to their sleeping bag, and shook their head.

Damn it. Well, if they had to bother the sleeping Caterpie, so be it.

Jude unwrapped the rope from around the tree trunk and let the slack slowly slide between their fingers, lowering the bag toward the ground. It got a few feet before the Caterpie screeched and unrolled, scampering up the rope far faster than Jude could safely lower the bag. They paused and watched the Caterpie scramble up into the safety of the tree branch, where it stopped to chitter angrily at Jude and shoot webbing at them. Jude ducked, shook their head, and lowered the food the rest of the way down.

Hey, they tried to warn the little guy. It was the Caterpie’s own fault that they’d been caught up in June’s morning routine.

“Rex?” called Jude, looking over their shoulder. He appeared in a puff of smoke, a huff in his breath as he sprinted out of the underbrush. Jude smelled fire. They pinched the bridge of their nose. “Tell me you didn’t set the forest on fire.”

He sat down at their feet and wagged his tail, tongue lolling and his best impression of a grin on his face.

Jude folded their arms. “I know you can understand me.”

He huffed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils, and tossed his head. The smell of smoke was mostly fading, bar right against Rex, so he’d only torched something a little bit, rather than setting the world aflame.

“What did you set on fire?” asked Jude, turning their head to peer into the forest. “Did some Pokémon try to sniff you while you were peeing?”

He barked.

“Ah,” said Jude, nodding. “I’d hit someone if they did that to me, too.” They cracked their knuckles and headed to the food. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get something to eat and head out. I wanna find some cliffs before the day is out.”

Breakfast, clean up, inventory, and then they were off, striking out down Route 16 and heading, unfortunately, in the general direction of Evemawr. It was approximately a one hundred mile journey through rolling hills cut through almost entirely with sheer cliffs heading toward the great lake of Soma, as well as forested area that had never been cleared after the two cities had grown. The monorail system swung wide, almost completely over the lake, which meant Jude wouldn’t have to hear it during their journey.

The trip from Dawnmere to Windwick was far longer, but Jude didn’t care; the trip to Evemawr took most fit trainers four or five days, maybe a little more for some of the greener trainers and city folk. They could pause in Evemawr, refuel, take a night at a Pokémon Centre, then strike further east and head toward the wilds surrounding the Roanside area. It’d be _perfect._ And no one would bother them, except the hardcore trainers and Rangers who used the area to train.

Route 16 was different from Furrowbury and the farming area that surrounded it. While the fields and farms back north were filled with crops and domesticated farm animals of both the Pokémon and non variety, the forest here was filled with trees and undergrowth, fallen logs never cleared because they didn’t have to be. Gone were the smells of Mareep manure for corn growth and cow patties because it didn’t matter how often you shovelled, they kept shitting. Instead, Jude was greeted with the smell of slowly rotting grass and the sharp scent of flowers, the musk of dirt and tree that only the forest could bring.

The sounds, too, were different. Instead of the cooing and moos and bays of the farm animals, there were chirps of bird Pokémon, the buzzing of bug Pokémon, the scampering of little feet in the underbrush. Some Pokémon followed Jude and Rex as they walked, far enough off the main path of the route that the worn dirt path was no longer visible.

Jude had a map. Jude didn’t care.

They watched from the corner of their eye as a handful of Treecko followed through through the brush. It was strange to see Treecko so far from their families. They were solitary creatures, yes, but they stayed in family structures until maturity. Were these Treecko fully mature? They seemed to have the dark green tails of mature Treecko, but Jude still had a habit of associating first evolutions with young Pokémon, despite how untrue that was both in and out of domestic Pokémon.

Was it another example of trainer culture? Trainers evolved their Pokémon throughout their journeys, and often started with young Pokémon in their first steps as trainers. Perhaps that was the truth of it.

Something to think about.

It was sometime latter, when the sun was high and the world was warm and filled with the buzzing of cicadas and Weedle alike, that Jude’s peace was broken.

Someone was screaming.

Jude jerked to a stop, head swinging around as the scream ripped through the air. High, feminine, and terrified.

“Rex!” called Jude and Rex took off, barking as he sprinted into the woods. Jude followed, feet pounding in rhythm with their erratic heartbeat. Shit. Who was it? Who was hurt? Who was hurting them? Shit, shit, shit.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Another scream. Rex darted left. Jude followed and broke out into a clearing. Beedrill. Dozens of them. With glowing eyes and pointed stingers. A girl on the ground. Round, dark, with hair so vibrant a pink it made Jude’s eyes hurt just looking at her. She had her arms up. An Elgyem floated above her, coloured lights spinning on its hands and eyes glowing.

It shot off a blast of coloured energy that hit a few of the Beedrill. They flinched but kept coming.

“Rex,” said Jude, sprinting for the girl. “Ember. Go, now!” Rex barked and took off toward the Beedrill as Jude ran for the girl. Fire burst from one side of the clearing, slamming into a couple of Beedrill. They turned, screeching and clicking, toward Rex. Jude slid up to the girl and hauled her to her feet. She was heavier than she looked, but Jude paid it little mind. If she could run, she’d be fine.

“Can you move?” asked Jude, looking over their shoulder at Rex. Spiraling white needles fired at Rex. _Pin Missile._ Shit. How strong were these guys? One of them lunged at Rex, all three stingers glowing purple.

“Yeah,” said the girl. “Um—”

“Then we need to go,” said Jude. There was no way in hell they could fight these guys off. But if they could get away… “Rex, light up the forest!”

Rex cocked his head at Jude, and Jude could almost hear his question. _I thought you said not to burn down the forest_.

“Do it!” yelled Jude, hand still gripping the girl’s arm.

Rex through back his head and howled, sending waves of pain through Jude’s head as they gripped the side of it with their free hand. He spat fire that torched a line between the Beedrill and Jude, then sprinted and launched himself through it. The fire crackled high and spoke billowed into the air.

“Go, go, go,” shouted Jude, tugging the girl. They took off running away from the Beedrill and further away from where Jude had come. They ran side by side, Jude forced to slow as the girl couldn’t quite keep up. But like hell Jude was going to leave her behind. They had an Elgyem and a Growlithe, they could fight off one or two at a time. Just not a crowd.

Buzzing in the distance. They’d gone around or over the flames. _Shit._

“They’re coming,” said the girl through her panting breaths.

“I hear them,” said Jude, through gritted teeth. “I hear them.” There was no place to make a stand, no place to fight without losing everything. They just had to keep running. They had to—

They broke free of the trees and found themselves at the edge of a steep drop into a river down below.

_Shit._

Jude skid to a stop and grabbed hard at the girl’s arm before she toppled over the edge. They both turned, their Pokémon in front of them, and waited.

There was nothing else they could do now.

“Hang on,” said Jude. If the Beedrill came one or two at a time, they’d be okay. But those fuckers could fly, which meant they could surround the four on all sides. And Jude couldn’t let Rex torch the place again, because then they’d lose their only way out. And it was a long way down to the water.

Shit.

“What are we gonna do?” whispered the girl.

“Does your Elgyem know anything other than Confusion?” asked Jude, looking at her.

She shrugged, looking a little helpless. “Growl?”

Jude sighed. _Great._ “Fine, just, stay close. Between the two of us, we might be able to put enough space between us and them to break for it.”

The girl swallowed audibly. “What’s the other option?”

Jude raised both eyebrows. “You know how to swim?”

The girl went ashen. “I guess we’re fighting.”

Jude squared their shoulders and lifted their fists into the air, hovering at about chest level. They weren’t in enough layers to properly take on any Pokémon hand-to-hand, but with a little luck, they might be able to get a good jab in on one or two.

The buzzing of the Beedrill drew closer and closer. Jude, the girl, and both of their Pokémon went tense and readied themselves for the coming fight.

The Beedrill appeared. They ripped out of the trees at breakneck speed, racing toward the group with glowing eyes and screaming mouths.

Jude ducked, spun, threw a punch at another, and ducked again. Rex spat fireballs in all directions. The Elgyem shot of Confusion after Confusion, the glowing circles smacking into a handful of Beedrill.

But it wasn’t enough. More and more kept coming. The Beedrill circled close. Jude took a step back, then another. Their foot scrapped the edge of the cliff.

_Damn it._

“There’s too many of them,” said the girl. _No shit._ Now would have been a great time for one of their Pokémon to spontaneously learn a move that would save their asses, but that sort of thing only happened in the movies.

Instead, Beedrill circled, forcing them back to the edge of the cliff. The largest Beedrill, probably the leader, hovered back near the trees. Their stingers glowed purple and so did their eyes. Jude swore.

_Oh shit._

“Brace yourself!” yelled Jude as the Beedrill shot forward. Rex spat fire into its the Beedrill’s eye and it screamed, went low, and slammed all three purple stingers into the ground. The ground split, holes growing and split bursting out from where the Beedrill landed.

The ground exploded and Jude had barely a moment to realize what was happening before it happened.

The rocks the four were standing on came loose and the rocks, Jude, Rex, and their two companions fell from the cliff side, down toward the water.

The last thing Jude saw as they fell, grabbing onto Rex as they went, as a great burst of fire from atop the cliff. Then, there was nothing.

* * *

It was a nice enough park, if Lark gave a moment to think about it, but really, they just wanted the interview to be over. Gen stood against a backdrop of children and Pokémon playing together on a newly built park structure, her hands moving excitedly as she gave her interview to the Channel 9 reporters. Lark recognized the cameraman, an older fellow named Scott who always had candies in his pockets for Lark. They’d sat together more than once, waiting for Scott’s daughter, the reporter, and Gen to finish their rehearsals and discussions, which always took far longer than the interviews, themselves.

Unfortunately, Scott hadn’t had time to chat today, as he’d need to shoot b-roll footage while Gen and the reporter — Lark was fairly certain her name was Donella — had discussed their interview questions. That left Lark alone, sitting on a park bench beneath a tree. They’d been instructed not to touch anything, not to get in the way, and not to interact with the kids in the background of the shot. Showcasing the positive growth in Dawnmere and its effects on the relationship between small children and companion Pokémon.

Meanwhile, Lark wasn’t supposed to have Snowdrop out unless they were training or travelling, lest someone become jealous that Lark had such a rare Pokémon for a starter, or in case Snowdrop caused issues indoors. One of the many rules that Gen had instituted when Lark had gotten Snowdrop. On top of the rules about how long Lark was allowed to travel alone, where they could go alone, and who they should take with them if they were not alone.

The rules made sense, of course. Lark wasn’t as well known as Gen, and their face wasn’t as recognizable, but enough people knew Lark’s face, and resented them for existing, that it was dangerous for Lark to be alone for long. Even the opening ceremony had proved that. One day in as a trainer and already other trainers were harassing them.

How were they supposed to go on a journey if it was too scary, too dangerous, to be alone?

It made Lark think of Jude, the tall, broad-shouldered trainer with the Growlithe they’d met only two days prior. Jude spoke of journeys as a form of freedom, a journey to discover who you were. They cast aside others’ expectations as thought they meant nothing and decided to use a journey to explore who they were and what they wanted in life. It boggled Lark that someone their age could make such choices, that Jude was allowed to travel so freely, without rules or restriction, while Lark was stuck on a park bench in Dawnmere, waiting for Gen to give the go-ahead for Lark to strike out into Route 1.

Lark sighed and drooped in their seat, elbows on their legs and chin propped in their curled fists. Stupid interviews. At least Donella had backed down when Lark had said they didn’t want to be interviewed. That was something else they suspected would be common, before long. Gen had been giving Lark tips on interviews and such for a couple years now, but had really dug into it in the last six months, once Lark had gotten word that they’d passed their licensing exam. They’d barely finished reading the email before Gen had insisted on showing Lark how to handle the press that came with being a trainer.

Press Lark only dealt with because Gen was in the spotlight. Did regular trainers ever have to give interviews? Lark could only remember a few — those who’d gotten to the late parts of the League or else were extremely proficient in their fields. The last regular trainer Lark could remember being interviewed before earning the fourth gym badge was a young woman who had taken the League by storm and earned three gym badges in six months. She was, to date, the only person to attempt five gym badges in one year. If not for what happened, she might have made a run for all eight.

_That_ was newsworthy.

Little Lark Harrow, sitting on a park bench, wishing they could pull a Clark Kent and disappear behind some glasses so they could be safe, was not.

But other than that one trainer, Lark couldn’t think of anyone else who got interviewed regularly, prior to the massive drop-off at gym four.

“Hey there, kidlet. Don’t you look glum,” said a voice over Lark’s shoulder. Without lifting their head or turning their gaze from Gen, Lark gave another sigh.

“Hey, Aella,” said Lark. Aella’s distinctive voice was like wind chimes against the grumbles of the day, and Lark found themself relaxing a touch at her presence. She set herself down next to Lark, all the grace in the world in her tall, lean figure.

“Aw, what’s got you down, Larky?” asked Aella, draping an arm over the back of the bench and leaning forward to look at Lark’s face. Her gaze, always so intense due to the dark grey of her irises, seemed to pierce through all of Lark’s defences. She furrowed her brow at Lark and pursed her lips. “You wanna talk about it?”

Lark nodded to Gen. “She won’t let me leave for Route 1, yet.” There’d been talk about finding trainers willing to travel with Lark. Lark had argued that down. They didn’t want to be someone’s burden. Someone’s dumb, forced tag along.

There was also talk of a support Pokémon, for the bad days, but Lark didn’t want to draw any attention to themself.

They winced, pain in their spine and against their right shoulder alighting at the thought. Lark rubbed at their shoulder, frowning.

Aella cast a glance to Gen, then gave a huff and turned back toward Lark, nodding. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” She tossed her long, straight black hair over one shoulder and blew out a breath, knocking her side-swept bangs from her face. Lark took a moment to appreciate Aella’s eyeshadow — a brilliant array of purples and smoky greys that complimented both her eye colour and the shape of her monolid eyes.

She’d always been good at make-up, and her make-up channel, which Lark only watched when they were lonely, was super popular in Johto and Kanto, where people with monolid eyes were abundant.

“You do?” asked Lark, tilting their head.

“Darling, I have the most overprotective fathers in the whole world.” Aella leaned back on the bench and crossed one leg over the other at the knee. She rested her hands on her crossed knees and drummed her acrylic nails against the fabric of her tight, black jeans. They were Pikachu yellow, today, with little lightning bolt decals. “You should have seen their faces when I told them I wanted to come to Altera for my journey.” Aella gave a decidedly unladylike snort, the sort of snort that Gen would tell Lark not to do in public, lest it end up on the news. “It took me months to convince them otherwise, and I ended up missing my chance to journey at sixteen. A year behind my peers and I still ended up just fine.”

‘Just fine’ was putting it lightly. Aella had two studio albums out, a third on the way, was shortlisted for roles in multiple blockbuster movies, _and_ she had a fashion line, her make-up and fashion vlog channel, and she regularly appeared on talk shows to discuss rights for trans people like herself and Lark.

Oh, not to mention she was the sixth gym leader in Altera.

So yes, she was doing ‘just fine’.

She was, to be frank, Lark’s _hero._ And Lark wanted to be just like her when they grew up. Minus all the fame and such. Cameras were not Lark’s idea of a good time. They’d had enough cameras for a lifetime, already.

“I never knew you were a year behind everyone else,” said Lark, tilting their head to look up at Aella. Their bangs fell in their face and Lark blew at them with a frown. Gen kept saying Lark should get a haircut. Every time she did, Lark mentally moved the haircut back another two months.

At the moment, Lark was waiting three years.

Maybe they’d get it trimmed on the road, far far away from anyone who wanted to control their hair. That’d be nice. Just a little trim.

“Mm, that doesn’t surprise me. You never do pay attention to all those interviews you watch,” said Aella with a light chuckle. Lark flushed hot and opened their mouth to reply, though they had no idea what they were going to say. Aella saved them by waving her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it darling, I don’t pay much attention to them either, even if I’m supposed to.” She winked. Lark smiled.

Gen’s laughter carried over to them both and Lark glanced over to see her playing with a couple of the little kids. Lark’s chest panged. They remembered being that age and playing with Gen. Things had been so much simpler, then. Back before Gen had been so focused on Lark’s image and the million ways to keep Lark safe from a million outside forces.

“Now, about this journey of yours. Why not just tell Gen you’re leaving? What can she do, really?” asked Aella.

Lark winced. “That’s not the point. It’s not like she’ll _do_ anything, it’s just…”

“You don’t want to disappoint her.” Aella didn’t phrase it as a question, but Lark found themself nodding, regardless. “Well, I can understand that. Gen is a difficult person to disappoint. She tries so hard and helps so many.” Lark winced. She was right, of course, but to hear it aloud made it worse. “Yet, I wouldn’t say that is a reason to listen to everything she says, Lark. You are your own person and a journey is meant to prove that.”

Lark sighed. “Is it?” they asked, with more than a touch of a bitterness. Lark had spent so long waiting for a chance to chase their dreams across Altera, but now that the time was here, they found themself dreading the journey to Windwick and the battle with Moira or one of her moderators. Jude’s words, limited as they’d been, wouldn’t leave Lark’s head. The idea of finding a dream that wasn’t just the one everyone always told Lark they should have. Going on a journey to understand what that dream was, taking time to understand yourself.

It all sounded wonderful. But it didn’t matter. Lark had spent years preparing to take on the journey to become the next Champion. Whether it was their dream or not didn’t matter. It was expected of them. It was what they’d been taught. And it was what everyone wanted Lark to be.

If Lark didn’t have anything else they’d rather be, then what was the point in disappointing all those people?

There wasn’t one.

Might as well just do what was expected of them.

They sighed, unsure what else to do.

“What’s her reasoning, this time?” asked Aella.

“Safety,” said Lark. “She…” Lark shook their head. “There were trainers, at the ceremony. They didn’t like me.”

“I’d heard from Nolan that you’d found someone who didn’t mind your company.” Aella’s slow drawl curled her words into something fancier.

Lark winced. “Gen doesn’t like them.” Really, ‘doesn’t like’ was putting it lightly. Gen had lost her _mind_ after Jude stormed out. Of course, she’d kept it together until they were back in their hotel room, but afterwards, especially when Lark had gone after Jude, especially when Lark had come back…

She’d said Lark shouldn’t be around such an ‘angry and volatile young person’, especially one so ‘large and brutish’. She’d made some comments that Lark was _pretty sure_ counted as ableism, and Lark had sat there and listened to it all. Gen wanted to protect Lark. Gen wanted Lark to be safe. And she thought Jude would hurt them.

Yet, Lark couldn’t imagine Jude hurting them, even in the short time they’d known each other. They’d been so quiet, so concerned, when Lark had appeared after they’d attacked the forest. And the entire time Lark had watched Jude lash out at the trees, they’d never imagined that Jude would turn that on a person.

Why walk away if you wanted to hurt someone?

“Ah,” said Aella. A pause. “You know, you’re allowed to make your own friends, regardless of what she thinks.”

“Gen understands people,” said Lark. “If she says they’re bad, they’re usually bad.” They frowned as they spoke. As true as those words were, Lark couldn’t stop thinking of Jude. “And… I don’t want to worry her. I’m enough of a burden already.”

“Oh, Lark, you don’t really believe that, do you?” asked Aella. Lark stared at their hands in their lap, not speaking. Aella sighed. “Lark, darling, you’re not a burden. Not at all.”

Lark glanced up at Aella through their bangs. “You really think that?” they asked.

Aella nodded, eyes twinkling. “Would you like to know a secret?” Lark nodded. Aella leaned in close. “If not for you, I would not spend _nearly_ as much time around Gen.”

Lark perked. “Really?” they asked, unable to keep the hope from their voice.

Aella nodded, smiling. Before Lark could work out how to ask Aella more without sounding selfish or arrogant, there was a noise.

Gen’s phone buzzed in her purse, next to Lark’s hip. They shifted and looked down at the screen, catching Nolan’s name before glancing at Gen. She was still in the middle of her spiel about the park and the increase in funding for child programs. With a frown, Lark grabbed her phone and scanned the message.

_‘Is the League house empty?’_ asked Nolan.

Lark blinked and grabbed their own phone, clearing Nolan’s message from Gen’s before tossing it back into her bag.

_‘Hey, saw your message. It is as far as I know. What’s wrong?’_ they sent back.

There was a pause. Aella watched Lark with a raised eyebrow, but Lark didn’t say anything. Nolan’s question had their guard up for no reason other than it was out of character of him to ask about the League houses. He never stayed in them, and he never asked anyone else about them. The few times Lark had seen him in the houses, during their own visits, he’d simply shown up and done whatever he wanted.

Lark was always jealous of how Nolan could simply parade around as if he had no other responsibilities, despite being the second highest ranking trainer in the League. How nice it must have been, to be Elite Four instead of Champion.

Their phone beeped as Nolan’s next message appeared.

_‘Jude from ystrdy. Hurt. Saw them go down cliff w/ +1 trainer. Taking J to L house + trnr to hsptl,’_ was his reply. Lark sucked in a breath. What? Jude had been fine the night before. Well, not fine, but in one piece. They’d fallen off a cliff? How? And what was this about another trainer? Jude had said they were travelling alone.

When had that changed?

“Everything okay, darling?” asked Aella in that soft way of hers. She rested a hand on Lark’s shoulder and Lark jumped at the sudden jump.

“Um,” said Lark, clutching to their phone like a lifeline. “I need to—” They stopped and looked up at Gen, who was still chatting with the two reporters. She would be a while, yet. She’d told Lark to stay put. Lark couldn’t just leave, could they? “I-I need…”

“A friend in trouble?” guessed Aella.

“I think?” said Lark, furrowing their brow. “I-I don’t know if we’re, um, friends. But they’re, I mean, Nolan said…” They stopped again, swallowing their words to try and get them in order.

Aella bumped shoulders with Lark. “Go,” she said. “I’ll cover for you.” She winked. “Gotta take care of our friends.”

Lark exhaled a breath that had caught in their chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” They repeated themself as they grabbed their little bag and slung it over their shoulder, jumping up to head out. “Thank you!”

“Go,” said Aella, waving them off. Lark nodded, turned, and took off for the edge of the park, already pulling up their mental image of Dawnmere in their head. The League house was halfway across the city. They’d need to catch a bus to get there anytime soon. Maybe, if they were lucky, they’d get there before Nolan and could dig up all the first aid supplies.

* * *

It came back slowly. The world, consciousness — everything, really. First, the awareness of temperature and texture, the feeling of a breeze through their hair, then of fabric all around. A rustle of motion, the sound of someone else’s breathing, and then the tightness in their chest that came from injury. A wince, facial features pulling, eyes opening. Jude squinted against the light, soft as it was, that shone off-centred from their face.

One hand lifted, brushing at their hair. It was damp, dirty, greasy. They needed a shower.

More thoughts flooding in. Memories of tasted blood and the bite of bark and stone. The glowing eyes of dozens of Beedrill. The scream of a girl Jude hadn’t been quick enough to save.

Jude jerked, hands planting on the bed — it was a bed, wasn’t it? — as they shot up to sitting upright. The room wobbled and spun, blurring in ways that Jude couldn’t make sense of. Pressure on their right side, Jude jerked, whacking at it. A voice, grumbling.

Slowly, ever so slowly, it all focused.

“Easy, Jude,” Nolan was saying, when their vision and ears came in properly. He was rubbing at one hand, which Jude realized, belatedly, that they’d probably hit. Oops. “You’re okay. I just need to check a few things before I can answer your questions, okay?”

Slowly, Jude nodded. Then, they winced as pain bloomed behind their eyes, putting star bursts in their vision and leaving the taste of cotton in their mouth.

“Do you know what day it is?” asked Nolan.

“The second,” mumbled Jude, rubbing the pads of their fingers against their closed eyes. They grimaced and tried not to taste the inside of their mouth. Dry and gummy, intermittently. Ugh.

“All right, and you know who I am?” Nolan gave a quiet chuckle. “I mean, I suspect you do. I have a feeling you’d attack me if you didn’t. Strike me as the type.”

Jude took that as a compliment.

“Yeah, you’re Nolan. The lying jerk that took me to lunch when there was nothing on the menu I could eat.” They couldn’t keep the snap out of their voice. Nor the glare that they levelled at Nolan. He was wearing hearing aids. That was new. They were a deep, orange-red with the occasional warm brown. Much like his hair. Huh.

He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, my bad. I’ll make that up to you, eventually. I swear.” He sighed. “Okay, so. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

Jude took a breath and shook their head slowly, carefully, so that they didn’t slosh around their brain anymore than they already had.

“I tried to save a girl in trouble. I failed,” said Jude. They looked at Nolan. If not for the nausea that threatened to consume them. It tugged at the edges of their mind and stomach, yanking at what little substance in the world they’d managed to cling to. “Where is she? Is she okay? You didn’t just grab me, right?” A pause. “You did grab me, didn’t you?” Another pause. “Why are you wearing hearing aids?” Then, “Where’s Rex?”

They couldn’t remember much, but they had a brief memory of a burst of fire coming over the cliff side and the flash of something blocking out the sun. No memory of Nolan; no memory of him voice or his face or anything else. Just the Beedrill, the fire, and falling. At least they’d managed to grab onto Rex.

Simple logic. It made Jude feel better to know they could still manage that.

“She’s in the hospital and he’s at the Pokémon Centre,” said Nolan, in a gentle voice. “She was more hurt than you were, so I took her there. As for the hearing aids, I always wear them. I was beta testing a new pair from Platinum Tech that go inside the ear canal and I decided I didn’t like them.” He shrugged. “Went back to the old pair.” Oh. That made sense.

“Why am I here?” asked Jude.

Nolan rubbed the back of his neck. “You didn’t strike me as the type to like hospitals.” Jude didn’t. Good call. “And I figured whatever happened to you, the on-site Pokémon could handle.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “On-site Pokémon?” they echoed.

As if on cue, a Chansey popped into Jude’s line of sight with a cheerful coo. Jude yelped and jerked away from her, eyes wide and hands tight to the sheets. The Chansey was wearing a nurse hat and peered closely at Jude.

“Um,” Jude blinked a few times, “hello?”

The Chansey chirruped happily. They all sounded a bit like songbirds, if you asked Jude. Not that anyone ever did.

“She’s been keeping an eye on you,” said Nolan, with a little smile. “You seem to be healing pretty well. Cece here has been fixing all your wounds as she can. And as for your friend in the hospital, the nurses have informed me that she’s on her way to recovery, as well. She’ll be a little longer, but she’ll be okay.”

“She’s not my friend,” said Jude, before they could stop themself. Why did they feel the need to say that? She wasn’t, but that wasn’t the point of all this. A girl was in the hospital and Jude was still arguing that they were alone. Of course they were. “But… she’s gonna be okay?”

“She is,” agreed Nolan. He raised an eyebrow. “And speaking of people who aren’t your friends, there’s someone downstairs waiting for you.”

Jude raised both eyebrows, cocking their head to one side. “Who?” they asked.

Nolan grinned. “C’mon in, Lark,” he called, tilting his head but not taking his gaze from Jude. Jude’s eyes went wide as the door opened and Lark, eyes wide and hair hanging in their face, appeared in the doorway. They gave a tiny smile, with worry in their eyes and a furrow in their brow, both visible only because Lark telegraphed their expressions so broadly that Jude could pick them out if they were fucking exhausted.

“Hi,” said Lark, voice soft. They shut the door behind them and leaned back against the door, hands behind their back. Their head was mostly ducked and they stared at the floor as they spoke. “Nolan texted and said he was bringing you here. I wanted to check and see if you were okay.”

Jude gnawed on the inside of their cheek and tried to find the words to explain how they felt. Confused, tired, maybe disoriented. But not disappointed or angry. Maybe they should have been disappointed. Disappointed that they’d have to be saved. Disappointed that they’d lost. Disappointed in themself. But mostly they were just tired. Tired and hungry and disoriented and _exhausted._

“I’m all right,” said Jude, which didn’t feel right, but it was the closest thing to right that they could manage. They rubbed the back of their neck and sighed. “I feel more stupid than anything else.”

Two tiny Pokémon against a horde of Beedrill. Really, Jude and the girl hadn’t stood a chance. But why the hell had the Beedrill been so angry to begin with? And why had there been so many of them? Wild Pokémon didn’t group up like that, especially to attack others. It was just like the train. Two strange incidents in one day. Two days? Three days? A week, at least.

What could it mean?

“You should have called for help,” said Nolan. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “The Pokémon League is here to help, Jude, and we do our best to be there wherever we can. You’re incredibly lucky that I was there, because if I hadn’t been, I don’t know what would have happened to you two.”

Jude frowned. If Rex had been a little stronger, or that Elgyem had known a few more moves, then they might have had a better chance.

“It was incredibly irresponsible of you to try and help her,” said Nolan. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

Jude bristled. “So, what, I was supposed to just stand by and watch her get hurt?” Jude lifted their voice as they spoke. “Those Beedrill were completely out of control. If I hadn’t grabbed her, she could have died.”

“Wild Pokémon don’t act like that,” said Nolan, in a tone that Jude was far, _far_ too familiar with. “They must have been provoked.”

“Oh, so she deserved it then?” asked Jude, folding their arms.

Nolan winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s how it sounded.”

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, then Nolan sighed and bowed his head.

“When I arrived on scene, the Pokémon were incredibly agitated. Neither one of us knows how they ended up that way. We’d have to ask the girl about it,” said Nolan. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I’m sorry for sounding so harsh. I don’t mean to belittle your opinions or say you’re wrong. I’m going off my own experiences.” He gave Jude a little smile. “But I meant what I said about calling for help. If you’re going to jump into battle like that, just hit the emergency beacon on your phone first, next time. Please?”

Jude narrowed their eyes, staring at him. Was he being sarcastic? Was he making fun of them? What was going on? People didn’t just back down like this. That wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t what people were like.

Something was fishy.

“Why are you so…,” Jude gestured vaguely, “you?”

Nolan furrowed his brow and tilted his head to one side. Jude wished they had a cheat sheet. Their head hurt too much and everything was too confusing. People were ridiculous. Why couldn’t everyone have emotions like a Pokémon? Pokémon were easy to read.

Or, they had been, until the Parasect and the Beedrill.

“Because I can recognize when I made a mistake, something many people twice my age struggle with,” said Nolan, drily. He gave another shrug, but there was a bright smile on his face. “So, why don’t you tell me what you saw, and we can try and figure out what happened? I promise to take you seriously.”

Jude looked over Nolan’s shoulder, to Lark, who gave a little smile.

“He’s genuine,” said Lark, face a little wrinkled. “He’s just sorta like that. Has been as long as I’ve known him.” Lark looked at Nolan, their eyebrows and eyes mostly obscured behind hair. “I don’t claim to understand him, but I think he’s pretty cool. I-If that’s okay to say.”

Jude nodded. All right. Lark hadn’t given Jude any reason not to trust them, so they decided to listen to them. Besides, the worst Nolan could do was argue with Jude, again, and then Jude could just leave.

“What is this place?” asked Jude.

“It’s a League Official house,” said Nolan. He gestured to the room around them. “We League members stay at them when we’re in cities on short notice. We don’t like to take away customers from hotels, and most hotels won’t let us pay, so this is sort of the compromise. A private place for us to hang out whenever we need to heal or get away from the crowds.” He flashed Jude a smile.

Jude raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Seriously? You basically have vacation homes everywhere?”

Nolan winced. “You’re pretty harsh.”

“I’m a realist.”

Nolan huffed. “Is that what they call pessimism now?”

Jude scowled. “Pessimism would be thinking the girl would die no matter what I did. Realism was knowing she’d stand a chance if I helped.”

“And optimism was assuming you’d win?” guessed Nolan, eyebrows up.

“I don’t like you,” said Jude.

Nolan slumped, pouting. “That’s too bad, because I think you’re pretty great.”

Yeah, he was _definitely_ mocking Jude.

He and Jude stared at each other, Jude focusing on a spot above his head while Nolan seemed to be trying to stare into their eyes. Jude reached for their necklaces, out of habit, and let out a quiet breath when their fingers wrapped around both the chewy necklace and the fire stone fragment. At least they hadn’t lost anything.

“Is Rex okay?” asked Jude. He was at the Pokémon Centre for the second time in a week. Jude _definitely_ wasn’t a good trainer.

“The Pokémon Centre said he’d be all right,” said Nolan. “He was pretty banged up, but they’re healing him up.”

Jude let out a quiet breath of relief. Thank goodness he was being healed. But guilt wracked them from his injuries. If they’d just been stronger, faster, or smarter, this wouldn’t have happened. Fuck this stupid city. And fuck the places around it.

But what would have happened to the girl if Jude hadn’t been there?

“His healing timer is on your phone,” said Nolan, gently. “He won’t be ready for a few hours, so it’s up to you what you do, next.”

Jude nodded. They gave it a minute of thought before they spoke again. “You said the girl was in the hospital? I’d like to visit her.”

* * *

Jude rapped gently on the door and waited for a tired voice to call ‘come in’ before pushing it open.

The room was small, pale, but somewhat warm despite it all, but Jude’s attention wasn’t on it. Instead, their attention zeroed in on the girl they’d met in the forest, who reclined in the hospital bed whose headboard rested against one wall. The bed was elevated and pillows further elevated her until she was almost sitting up.

Without adrenaline and fear to cloud them, Jude could now see her clearly. Their initial assessment remained — she was short, probably the same height as Lark, and round, and had skin almost as dark as Nolan’s. She was covered in red-tinted, dark freckles, and her neon pink hair was the curliest Jude had ever seen. It flared around her like a brilliant cape and crown, illuminating her in a way that had Jude fighting a tiny smile. Like Nolan, she wore hearing aids. Like Nolan, they were the same colour as her hair. A brilliant, bubblegum pink.

Her curls were long enough that she twirled the edges of her hair in one hand, and both hands were in her lap. She looked up when Jude walked into the room and her expression turned as bright as her hair.

“Oh! My mysterious saviour.” She beamed at them. Her voice was light, and loud, but deeper than Lark’s. Melodic, almost. “I was wondering if I’d ever get a chance to thank you.”

Jude nodded their head and shut the door most of the way. They shuffled over and leaned against the wall facing the bed, a few feet from her, and folded their arms across their chest.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” said Jude, keeping their voice low.

“I am, thanks to you,” said the girl. She twirled her fingers through her hair and gave a light laugh. “Augh, I should have known not to go through the woods alone with just my partner, but I was so excited to study Pokémon that I totally forgot to, you know, find any other Pokémon. Or someone to travel with.” Her laughter turned nervous and she ducked her head. The tips of her ears turned a few shades redder.

She didn’t have the cool undertones to her dark brown complexion that Jude’s dad did, but instead the warm undertones that Jude had seen in Nolan and Omar, the water gym leader. Perhaps that was why she seemed to glow beneath the colour of her hair.

Beautiful, really. Jude’s fingers longed for charcoal and pencils, for markers and paints. For something to capture her essence onto paper.

“Studying Pokémon?” echoed Jude, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m an anthropologist,” said the girl, waving one hand around. “Or, I will be, someday. Right now I’m just learning. But I want to study Pokémon cultures in the wild, which requires a lot of dangerous fieldwork. I guess I sorta… went too far into the deep end for my first try.”

Jude snorted. “You think?” Then, “And I didn’t save you. I got us both into worse trouble. Nolan saved us.”

The girl wrinkled her nose. “Nolan? Nolan Casseus, the Elite Four member? You’re on a first name basis with the _top of the Elite Four?_ ” Her voice rose to a shriek as she spoke and Jude grimaced. Suddenly, she was a lot less pretty.

“Yeah, so?” asked Jude. “He’s just a guy.”

“Uh-huh, sure, and Mew is _just_ a Pokémon.” The girl rolled her eyes.

Jude scowled. “If you’re fine, then I’m gonna go.”

“Wait,” said the girl. Jude raised an eyebrow. She twirled curls around her finger. “My name’s Rena. Thank you for helping me. You might think you made it worse, but I would have died if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, and I’m willing to bet the smoke from your Growlithe’s fire was what caught his attention. So, thank you.”

Jude nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m Jude. Uh, they/them.”

Rena beamed. “She/her,” she replied. “Hey! Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Oh, Jude hoped not. This girl seemed the type to get into trouble. Jude didn’t know why they thought that, but they had a hunch. Something about the way she talked about what had happened in the forest.

“Maybe,” agreed Jude. “Hey… do you know what was wrong with those Beedrill?”

Rena shook her head. “No. They just freaked out when I stumbled into that clearing. I’ve never seen Pokémon like that before.”

Jude frowned. They’d only seen it once, with the Parasect. If the Beedrill acted like that without provocation, then maybe the two were connected. If nothing else, having two attacks happen in the last week was fishy.

They needed to go talk to the Pokémon Professor. That was what you did when weird shit happened, right? You went to the Pokémon Professor. Maybe Professor Gaea would have an idea as to what was going on.

But _ugh_ , that meant going to Windwick.

“Excuse me,” said a nurse, stepping into the room, “there’s a Ranger and Mr. Casseus here to see you, Ms. Hale. I’ll have to ask you to leave.” The latter part was directed to Jude, who nodded.

“Right, sure. See you around, Rena,” said Jude, lifting one hand in goodbye as they turned and left. They didn’t hear if Rena said anything, after that. They just headed passed Nolan and the Ranger and headed outside. They needed air.

Outside, Jude’s phone buzzed and they picked it up. It was a text from Lark.

_‘Is she okay?’_

Jude let out a soft sigh and leaned against the building.

_‘Yeah, she’ll be fine. But she said the Beedrill attacked her out of nowhere.’_

They waited a minute for Lark’s reply.

_‘That’s so strange. What are you going to do next?’_

Jude retyped their text two or three times before they found a way to phrase it like they wanted.

_‘I’m going to Windwick. This is the second time I’ve seen this sort of thing this week. I wanna ask the professor. Probs head out tomorrow.’_

Lark replied,

_‘That’s a good idea. Good luck!’_

Jude sent back a ‘thanks’ and pushed off the building, heading back to the house to gather their things. They’d get some food, gather supplies they hadn’t realized they needed, and head out in the morning. But first they had to go get Rex. His healing timer on their phone was just about up.

Then, once they had him back, they could put this city, and this culture, behind them. Even if they _were_ walking directly into the path of it, again. Dawnmere to Windwick was Route 1. And Windwick was the first gym.

This was going to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Five Fact:**  
>  The continued evolution of Pokémon intelligence and training has resulted in stronger, smarter Pokémon in the last fifty years. Because of this, Pokémon are now capable of understanding more move combinations and remembering more techniques in greater detail. To accommodate this, most Pokémon Leagues, including Altera, have moved to allowing six-move movesets for battling Pokémon. This is called the Six-Six-Six rule, as you may have six active Pokémon at a time, which may have six total moves each, and you may own a maximum of six full teams (thirty-six Pokémon total) without special licensing. Though most never go above twelve total.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment - short or long, I don't mind! <3


	6. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back after a short break. Sorry about that. Let's get travelling!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed the story so far. It makes me feel nice.

Shopping sucked, and dealing with an unfamiliar city sucked far more. The shops were filled people who wouldn’t stop grumbling and talking about things that didn’t make any sort of sense to Jude. But, they pushed through with the help of Lark’s gifted earplugs.

Headphones, more supplies for Rex — potions, paralyse heals, and more — and everything else they could think of, including more food for the road. Were they over prepared? Perhaps. But better to be over prepared than to go through anything horrific. If Jude never felt the fear that had seized them on the train tracks, when Rex had been poisoned, ever again, they could finish this journey happy.

Despite the fact that Jude didn’t think they’d be doing much battling, they wanted to be prepared for every possibility.

So maybe they went a little overboard.

So what?

The entrance to Route One was in the northern most part of Dawnmere. It was a large, garish thing — an archway that stretched two storeys into the air and spread wide enough to accommodate maybe a dozen people abreast. The massive stone archway still had a banner hung across it that read _Good Luck Trainers_ , but at least the crowds were gone and the balloons had been removed. The hundreds of trainers striking out onto the route had left at different points the day before yesterday and all through the nonsense Jude had experienced yesterday, and that left Jude travelling out of the city mostly alone in the early afternoon on the third day of the league season.

Nolan had wanted Jude to stay another day, maybe two. He was worried that Jude hadn’t recovered from their encounter with the Beedrill and the fall. While Jude might ( _might_ being the key word) have normally agreed, they wanted to get out of the city and away from Nolan, and the League, as soon as possible. Not to mention, they couldn’t stop thinking about those two occurrences with the Pokémon. It dug at them, like a splinter under a fingernail, and they wanted answers.

So, around nine in the morning, Jude struck out of Dawnmere, bag over their shoulders and Rex at their side. He was quieter than usual, peering at all the corners and shadows as if they were filled with unseen monsters. Jude couldn’t blame him. In the span of less than a week, he’d been poisoned, attacked by Beedrill, and had fallen off a cliff. Before this week, he’d just been a regular pet Pokémon. Of course he was having trouble adjusting.

Hell, Jude was having trouble adjusting. This hadn’t been what they expected when they’d agreed to try a journey. The most excitement they had figured they’d end up in was some sold out supplies, a bad rainstorm, and maybe a wild Pokémon that was pissed off from an injury that Jude could fix. Little things like that.

Jude looked down at Rex and sighed, tilting their head at him. He looked up at them with big, round eyes. A pang of sadness and guilt struck Jude.

Rex deserved better than what he was going through because of them.

“Well, buddy, you ready to see whatever the hell this has in store for us?” they asked.

Rex glanced at the route, then back up at Jude, and gave a bark of affirmation. His tail wagged, slower than usual, but eager all the same, and Jude couldn’t help but smile. At least Rex was still curious as ever. If he ever lost that, then Jude would know they really had to worry.

Taking a deep breath, Jude turned and headed out of the city and down the path that led to the open meadows that marked the beginning of Route One.

They’d barely made it ten steps before a voice startled them and sent them stumbling.

“Jude, wait up!” Jude wobbled, stumbling forward at the loud words. Before they fell over, they managed to right themself, and turned to the source of the noise. _Lark_. Though, the voice had given it away. They came running toward Jude, dressed in clothes much more suited for travelling than before and wearing a brimmed hat with little flowers on it.

Jude raised an eyebrow. They hadn’t known Lark’s voice could go that loud. Just assumed they were always going to be soft spoken and quiet. Huh.

Lark ran up next to Jude and stopped, hands on their thighs, doubled over and panting. “Why are you so fast?” they panted out.

“Long legs,” said Jude, flatly. They shrugged. “What are you doing, Lark?”

Lark drew themself to their full height, which was still tiny, and put their hands on their hips. “I want to travel with you.”

Jude raised the other eyebrow. “What?”

“Please?” asked Lark, lifting their hands to clasp them beneath their chin. “Nolan was right. Travelling alone is dangerous and we both only have one Pokémon. You said you’re going to Windwick, anyway, to talk to the Pokémon Professor about what you saw. That’s where the first gym is. Let me travel with you to Windwick. After that, you can go your own way. I promise not to get in the way. And I’ll do everything I can to help. I can cook! A-and I’m good at identifying edible plants. I think. I mean, I haven’t died yet.” They looked down and nibbled at their lower lip.

Jude raised the other eyebrow, blinking a few times. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one go.” They might have said more in the locker rooms, or thereabouts, but it didn’t _feel_ the same, for no reason that Jude could discern.

Lark turned scarlet and ducked their head, rubbing the back of their neck with one hand. “Well, um, you see…” Ah, the stumbles were back again. That sounded more like the Lark that Jude had known for such a short time. It was interesting how it came and went, depending on the context.

Something to study.

“Okay,” said Jude, with a shrug, taking advantage of the momentary pause. “Why not?”

Lark perked. “Really?” Their voice cracked high as they spoke. They cleared their throat and flashed Jude a wobbly smile, eyebrows angled down so they formed a little mountain over their nose. Sheepish, Jude thought. _Advanced Facial Expressions, Lesson Nine_ , or thereabouts, anyway.

“I mean, really?” asked Lark, a second time. They still squeaked when they spoke, but less so. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” They bounced in place, a big smile on their face as they held their fists beneath their chin once again. “I promise, I won’t let you down. This is going to be so much fun.”

Jude shook their head. Fun? Sure, maybe it’d be fun. Hell, Jude wasn’t even sure _why_ they were saying yes, only that it seemed like the right thing to do. This wasn’t about what Nolan said — the guy didn’t know anything about Jude, so screw his opinion. This was about Lark. Lark was small, and soft, and didn’t seem to have any idea what the wilds entailed. Sure, Jude had gotten into trouble, but they could handle most of what came their way. Especially on Route One. What was the worst that could happen on a heavily traversed route that beginning trainers took on every day of the year, almost?

But, could Lark handle such things? If not the wild Pokémon, then the trainers who walked the route? Between other trainers seemingly hating them simply for being Gen’s younger sibling, to the strange happenings with Pokémon, to Lark’s seeming inexperience in working with their partner Pokémon — gathered by Jude’s observation that they almost never had her _out_ — Jude was willing to bet Lark was in way over their head in trying to take on the gym challenge, or even just Route One.

And maybe they felt a little protective, because Lark had lit up so brightly the first time they’d met, when Jude had pointed out that they shared a gender and a pride flag. And maybe Jude felt a little protective, because Lark seemed to dislike this culture almost as much as Jude did, but lacked the voice and the power to speak out against it the way Jude did. And maybe, just maybe, Jude liked Lark. Liked them in a way they weren’t used to anymore, because it’d been so long since they’d had a _friend._

They had no interest in doing the gyms, but letting Lark tag along to Windwick when Jude was already going that way wouldn’t do any harm. It’d be nice to have someone walking with them. Nice to have someone other than Rex to talk to.

Nice to be around someone that seemed to like them as they were, and didn’t feel the need to change Jude to fit into their own stupid idea of what they should be. And based on Lark’s reaction to Jude’s meltdown in the woods, which still made Jude wince, Lark had no interest in changing Jude.

Jude could live with that.

Lark beamed at them and Jude couldn’t help the little smile that spread across their face in response.

Maybe travelling with someone else wouldn’t be so bad, even if it was only for a little while.

Not that they were going to tell Nolan that.

Nor were they going to tell him how hopeful they were that Lark would end up their friend, even if only the kind that texted one another and met up every once in a while.

That could be cool.

“Are you all ready to go?” asked Jude. They glanced at Lark. The bag Lark carried was much smaller than Jude’s, though that made sense for a lot of reasons, and not only because Lark looked like they weighed a hundred pounds, soaking wet. Still, could that bag, small as it was, really hold everything that Lark needed?

“Yup!” said Lark, bouncing in place. “I’m all set. I wanted to be ready when I found you, so that I didn’t slow you down.” A flicker went through Lark’s expression and they sagged, just for a moment. “I don’t like slowing people down.”

“Well, can’t really slow me down,” said Jude, conversationally. They tapped the brim of their hat, pushing it up just enough to get a better look at their surroundings. “I’m not one for rushing.”

Lark smiled. “I’m glad. Um, so, should we start?”

“One thing, first.”

Lark tipped their head and furrowed their brow. “Oh?”

“Snowdrop,” said Jude, folding their arms loosely across their chest, “pull her out. If we’re going on a journey, you need to have her out. She’s your partner.”

Lark blinked. “Oh. Okay.” They fumbled with their belt and released Snowdrop, who stretched and yawned as she solidified. As soon as she saw Rex, she bounded over to him and flopped onto him. They went rolling around together, yipping.

“You don’t have her out often, do you?” asked Jude, tilting their head to nod down Route One. Lark hurried to follow as Jude started walking, Rex and Snowdrop following soon after.

“Not really. Gen always says that we shouldn’t inconvenience people, and because Snowdrop is young, she could cause trouble,” said Lark. They tugged at a strand of hair and frowned. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Jude snorted. “You need experience to learn. She’s never going to learn if she’s always in her ball.”

Lark sighed and stepped over a branch in the route. There weren’t that many trees, in this area, but there was a bend not far up the gravel road, half hidden by the waist high grass that was all around. It was startling, how quickly the city fell away from the route, as if it had never been there at all. If not for the way the shadows of the city fell across Jude, they could almost forget the city was there.

Yet, looking over their shoulder, it was still clearly there, and it curved forward in places, especially to the east. That’d be why the route path curved west, then. Keep it from intersecting or getting too close to the city, plus Windwick was more west, wasn’t it? Jude couldn’t remember. Monorails.

Ugh.

“What about you and Rex?” asked Lark, breaking through Jude’s thoughts with the gentle touch of their voice. Jude glanced in Lark’s direction just in time to lift a branch out of their way — dead level with their eyes, but their gaze had been on Jude.

“Careful.”

“Thank you,” said Lark, beaming.

Jude cleared their throat and turned their attention back to the route. The path grew slightly narrower as they approached the bend, and Jude took care to look out for trash or debris along the edges. One of the biggest complaints they heard about trainers was trash, and considering there was a whole class, and section of the exam, on litter and responsibility camping, they figured it was probably worse than they thought.

A few granola bar wrappers, a gum wrapper. Jude took a moment to pick them up and tuck them into a little zip-locked plastic bag at their waist before speaking.

“I’ve had Rex for a couple years,” said Jude, closing the bag. “And I don’t put him in his ball unless I have to.” Rex trotted up, a plastic wrapper in his mouth. “Thanks, buddy.” They patted him on the head, took the wrapper, and dealt with it while he ran off. “Fucking people, destroying the place.”

“I didn’t realize it was so bad,” said Lark, voice soft. They stooped to gather toothpicks — toothpicks! _What —_ before speaking again. “Really? You never put him away? Why not?”

“Why would I?” asked Jude. A question for a question. But, they answered anyway. Sort of. “He’s my friend, and my partner, and he was my pet before that. We’ve always been together. Why would I lock him up when I don’t have to?” Pokéballs were perfectly safe. Transforming Pokémon into energy, they placed the creatures in a type of stasis, which prevented worsening injury or status decay, while also drastically slowing down biological functions, such as the need to eat or drink.

Extremely useful, but Pokémon weren’t aware of much in their balls, not unless you got their attention, and it always seemed cruel, to Jude, to lock them away when you didn’t have to. They were animals, after all. They should be free to roam, when possible.

“That makes sense,” said Lark, their voice soft. The litter was mostly gone, now, and Jude nodded, satisfied. “I never thought about it that way, I guess.”

“That your partner is also your friend?”

“That she wouldn’t want to be put away all the time,” replied Lark. Lark frowned and rubbed one hand against the other arm. “I always picture Pokéballs as like… I dunno, an escape, I guess.”

“Escape?” Jude pushed away another branch so Lark could walk under it. They ducked under it, after, before letting it fall back in place. The scent of sweetgrass was growing stronger, patches of it sprouting up amid the long grass, despite the less than ideal environment. The vanilla-esque smell mingled with the tarter sweetness of the flowers, and a bolder sweetness that Jude recognized as performance rather than natural.

They peered into the grasses and spotted a handful of grass Pokémon scurrying away. Bounsweet among them. Jude shook their head, a little smile on their face. Rex and Snowdrop darted for the grass, but a whistle from Jude stopped Rex, and Snowdrop ploughed into him before stopping.

She cocked her head and made a ‘brr-uhp’ sort of noise. Rex barked in return and trotted back to the centre of the path. Snowdrop followed, chin high and tail swaying slightly with the movement of her legs.

“She likes to follow,” said Jude, glancing to Lark. They’d rounded the bend completely and now faced away from the sun as it rose into the sky. It’d suck in the evenings, walking half into the sunset, but it was better than having it constantly in one eye, out in the open. The grasses grew taller and trees appeared, near the horizon, but that was hours away. Maybe by nightfall they’d have the cover of the trees.

“Oh,” said Lark, watching Snowdrop, who mimicked Rex so well that it was almost comical. Rex’s bulk and general roughness versus the regal elegance of a Vulpix. Jude fought a grin. “I guess she does.” Lark cracked a little smile. “And I guess… I dunno. Pokéballs are hidden. Small. No one can bother a Pokémon in a Pokéball without calling it out. When a Pokémon is hurt, they can retreat to a ball to keep from getting worse. It’s… nice, I guess. To have something so secure, just waiting for you.”

“Until a Pokémon is too injured to risk putting them in their ball,” said Jude. “Or a ball is broken, or lost, or stolen. And Pokémon might be safe in them, but what about stimulation? Socialization? Friendship?” _Calm down._ The edges of frantic energy crept into their voice and mind, tugging at their ears and hands. _Easy, Jude._ They took a deep breath.

Lark was good. Lark was good.

Jude didn’t need to get riled up.

“Oh,” said Lark, nodding. “That makes sense. Thank you.”

Jude blinked. What? “What?”

“I… I’d never thought of it like that. I always thought of it from what I’d like,” said Lark, with a tiny shrug. “I… I like that y-you have a different opinion.”

Jude cracked a smile, forcing a deep exhale through their nose. “It’s good to diversify.”

Lark looked up at them and smiled, something in their eyes that Jude couldn’t place. “So I’ve heard.”

* * *

They walked for hours, until the sun rose overhead and started toward the west. Before long in their walking, Jude had to slow their steps to let Lark keep up more easily. Their legs were long, too long for Lark, and it took conscious effort to shorten their strides so Lark didn’t have to hurry and exhaust themself to keep up.

Sometime in early afternoon, they paused, tucking into a patch of tall grass that had been worn flat by past trainers. Rex and Snowdrop flopped onto the ground, drinking from water bowls that Jude and Lark had produced. Their lunch was out, as well, bowls of Pokekibble designed for carnivorous, sharp-toothed Pokémon of their age and size. They’d get to it when they wanted.

Lark and Jude also had their lunch out. Jude’s was a couple sandwiches they’d made last night and some jerky from Furrowbury that they’d packed before they’d left. Lark had some fancy packed bento, which contained rolled foods and vegetables that Jude didn’t bother to sort out. It was neat, watching the ease with which Lark handled their chopsticks.

“What’s your favourite colour?” asked Jude, before biting into their ham and cheese sandwich. Domestic pigs were so unlike Tepig and other pig-like Pokémon that it was hilarious. And terrifying. Tepig wouldn’t eat a live human being if you tossed one into his trough. Brrr.

Lark looked up, cheeks puffed out from rice. “What?” they asked, a few grains falling out of their mouth and sticking to their chin. They pushed them back in and blushed, swallowing visibly. “Sorry, pardon?”

“Your favourite colour.” Jude picked at the lettuce in their sandwich. It was nice, and they knew it was important to eat vegetables, but they weren’t really in the mood for it. Still, with a scowl, they stopped themself from yanking it out of their sandwich. There were pickles to be had if Jude finished their sandwich. Bribes always worked. “We’re travelling together.” They shrugged. “Seems like we should know things about each other.”

Lark blinked and ducked their head, hair falling across their face and casting a shadow. “Oh,” they said, with little inflection that Jude could place. “That makes sense. Um, why colour?” A pause, a wince. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult.”

“You’re not,” said Jude, simply, before eating more of their sandwich. “I’m not exactly used to talking to people without… yelling.”

Lark frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Jude shrugged, again. “It’s…” They stopped, about to say ‘fine’, but it wasn’t ‘fine’. “It sucks. I wish it wasn’t like that. But, I mean, you’re cool.” Jude stuffed the rest of their sandwich into their mouth to prevent themself from saying anything else. _I don_ _’t mind trying, for you_ , they didn’t say. Because that was weird. They’d only known Lark for what, four days? Attaching that quick was strange, wasn’t it?

Jude didn’t know. They didn’t have much experience in making friends passed kindergarten.

“I like light blue,” said Lark, in a small voice. They fiddled with their chopsticks. “The way the sky gets, right at sunrise, with the little peek of light blue. It means it’s going to be bright and sunny. I like that.” They smiled at their lunch.

Jude smiled. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool. A way of saying that everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Yes, that’s… that’s it.” Lark looked up, a little smile on their face. “Oh, um, w-what about you?”

“Orange,” said Jude. “And nobody gets that. But… it’s not as angry as red, or as happy as yellow. Orange has depth.” They leaned back, hands free, and stared up at the sky. “Orange is the space between rage and euphoria. It’s the place we make for ourselves within the extremes of too-big emotions in a too-big world. Orange is the quiet of a sunset, or the ripe fruits and berries on a tree. It’s always there, waiting, when you need an orange day. When you don’t feel like screaming, but you don’t wanna just be a vapid, smiling fool.”

They blinked a few times. Were they rambling? Probably. But this was interesting to talk about. In tutoring, in literature class, Jude always failed at decoding metaphors and similes and themes. But creating their own was a special kind of puzzle building. A way to piece together the world in a way only they understood.

“That’s a really pretty way of describing it,” said Lark. Jude tilted their head to look at Lark, hat partially in the way. Lark gave a tiny smile through their hair and its shadows. Their own hat sat on the grass, next to them. Jude returned the smile. The fact that Lark seemed to understand those strange ways of putting together language helped, too.

“Thanks.”

“Do you, um, like y-your ham and cheese sandwich?” asked Lark. At Jude’s furrowed brow look, they flushed. “I’m sorry, that was stupid.”

“No more stupid than favourite colours,” replied Jude, easily. “It’s a good sandwich, not my favourite, but good.”

Lark tilted their head, chopsticks taping against their bento. “What’s your favourite?”

“Peanut butter and bananas,” said Jude. “I didn’t make it today, though.”

Lark gave a tiny huff. “Lucky me. I wouldn’t have been able to sit too close.” They blushed. “I-I mean…” They trailed off. “Nevermind. Um, why didn’t you make it?”

Jude squinted at Lark, trying to bring words to the strange feeling that had swept over them, this morning.

“I dunno,” they said, after a minute. “I just… something told me not to. A feeling.”

Lark’s flustered look changed to a smile. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” said Jude. They looked over to Rex, who had drained his water bowl for the second time since they’d all sat down. “Eat your lunch, you little cretin. You can’t just survive on water.”

Rex stuck his tongue out at them. Jude did it back. Snowdrop tried to copy them but just licked her nose. Lark giggled.

Lunch continued, more questions were asked. Lark’s favourite season was winter, because they loved the snow and ice, but they hated the cold. Jude’s was fall, because it was beautiful and elegant, but also proved that nothing lasted forever.

Lark loved fairy-type Pokémon best. Jude loved fire-types and dragon-types. Lark had made a joke about being super effective against Jude and they’d both laughed and laughed until their sides hurt, even though the joke probably wasn’t that funny.

But it was good to laugh. And it’d been a while since someone laughed _with_ Jude, rather than _at_ them.

* * *

In the early evening, several hours later, Lark and Jude found themselves approaching the trees that had been on the horizon that morning. But to get there, they first had to navigate massive furrows that burrowed under the path and split it open, creating wide gaps that Lark and Jude had to navigate across with their Pokémon.

Jude’s long legs made it easy, as did their general love of athletics. What trenches they couldn’t simply stretch across they could jump over with ease. Lark, however, was having a more difficult time.

“Jude… could… could I ask you something?” Lark’s voice was so quiet that Jude almost didn’t hear it. They looked to Lark, who was busy trying to navigate the gaps in the path due to digging Pokémon, and shrugged.

“Sure.”

“Why did you talk to me? At the hotel?” Lark leaped over a deeper gap and wobbled. Jude reached out and grabbed them by the shoulder, pulling them forward. If they really needed to, they could just go into the tall grass and find out how long the furrows went, then go around them, but Jude didn’t much want to try to circle them. Especially in the tall grass, where Pokémon lurked quietly, watching.

“You had the same pride flag as me,” said Jude. They leaped across the next furrow, which was so wide that Lark couldn’t possibly cross it. Snowdrop and Rex got running starts and leaped over them, but they were Pokémon, not people. “Here.” Jude stood at the edge and held out their hands. The furrow was probably four or five feet deep and steep on the edges. Maybe a Sandshrew had dug it out. “Grab my hands when you jump, I’ll pull you over.”

“O-Okay,” said Lark, nodding with wide eyes. They got a running start and jumped, just barely grabbing Jude’s fingers. Jude latched on and hauled them forward, walking back as the did. Lark stumbled into them and let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.” They shuffled back, shaking themself a little. “Maybe we should go around the next ones.”

Looking over Lark, Jude nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” Note to self: Lark didn’t like jumping, or maybe heights? Something to remember as they travelled.

Or maybe touch. Jude went back and forth on touch. Negotiated and initiated were fine. Surprise was not.

The furrows, after that, were smaller, but Jude kept an eye out for larger ones. The sun was perched over the horizon, not quite dinner time yet and blinding them at times, but Jude kept their head down. They had sunglasses in their pack, and they’d dig them out tonight, to avoid this happening again. But they didn’t want to stop now just for that.

“Was that really all it was?” asked Lark. “The flag?”

“Kinship,” said Jude, almost a correction by their tone. “There aren’t a lot of people like me back in Furrowbury.” They paused, then decided for the full truth. “Actually, there’s no one, as far as I know. No one non-binary. It was lonely. Online was nice, but it wasn’t the same as in-person. I’ve never gotten to talk to people like me, before. It’s…”, they sighed, “validating.”

Lark nodded. “I can’t imagine. I grew up around non-binary people. Domino’s been an Elite Four for over five years now, and Kai’s been a gym leader for seven. Zain’s been around for three, but that’s still a long time.” They paused. “Oh, sorry, this isn’t… sorry.” They blushed.

“No, go on,” said Jude. “I was listening.” And they had been.

“Well,” said Lark, tugging on a strand of hair. Up ahead, Snowdrop and Rex were barking at something. Snowdrop’s attempts at barks were closer to high-pitched yips, “it’s just that some of them have been around longer than I’ve had it figured out, so I’ve never felt alone in that way.”

Jude heard the phrasing and parsed it out. “But what about in your own way?”

Lark glanced away. “Being in the spotlight when you come out sucks.” They didn’t elaborate further. Jude didn’t ask. They couldn’t fathom what that must have been like for Lark.

The barking grew louder and Snowdrop leaped back as an Oddish ran out of the tall grass. It bounced off Rex and fell down, then jumped back up and waved its leaves around. Its gaze was on Snowdrop and it puffed out its cheeks.

Jude couldn’t help but grin. Oh, that was cute.

“I think it wants to fight Snowdrop,” said Jude, looking at Oddish while talking to Lark.

“Oh.” Lark didn’t sound excited. Jude turned their head to see Lark had gone rather pale. Well, paler than usual. “Um… I don’t… I…”

Oddish began to glow and several glowing orbs shot out to Snowdrop and pressed into her skin. She yelped and more orbs shot back to Oddish, who jumped into the air. _Absorb._

“Lark, you should have her attack,” said Jude. But Lark just stared as Oddish puffed up, used Absorb again, and then began to glow purple.

_Acid, shit._

“Snowdrop,” whispered Lark, one hand over their mouth, but they didn’t move.

Jude swallowed. “Rex, move!” Rex shoved Snowdrop and himself out of the way as the Oddish spat blackish spit at them all. Snowdrop shook herself and Rex bounced to his feet, mouth glowing. “You know what to do,” called Jude.

Rex barked, nodded, and lunged for the Oddish. He spat fire right into its face and leaped over it, avoiding the next round of Acid. The Oddish switched tactics, glowing with Absorb again.

“Ember, again,” called out Jude. Rex leaped over Oddish again, raining fire down onto its leaves. One of them ignited for a moment and the Oddish screamed, running around in circles until it went out, but the burn remained. “Good, one more time!”

The glowing orbs of the Absorb shot out at Rex and he braced himself for it, teeth visible. The Oddish leaped as the orbs came back, but Rex shook it off and kept going.

The last Ember hit home, fire dancing beneath the Oddish’s feet, and the burned grass Pokémon took off into the long grass, yelling all the way. It’d find its family and get healed, as most wild Pokémon did.

Jude let out a quiet breath. “You okay, buddy?” He barked in affirmation and Snowdrop hurried over to him. She licked at a scraped spot on his leg, formed from where he’d landed. Rex let her, though Jude thought he looked a little flustered.

But they turned their attention to Lark, who was trembling all over.

“Hey, what happened?” asked Jude. “Are you all right?”

Lark collapsed to their knees, head in their hands. Jude crouched down next to them, hands hovering a few inches from Lark, unsure.

“I’m sorry,” croaked Lark, voice crackling in the middle. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t. I didn’t. I don’t know _how_.”

Jude blinked a few times, trying to piece together all the words until they made sense. It didn’t work. There was too much missing, too much Jude didn’t know.

“You don’t know how to what?” asked Jude. They swallowed and rested a hand on Lark’s shoulder. Lark lifted their head to stare at Jude with watery eyes. They were trembling beneath Jude’s touch and Jude couldn’t figure out _why_. What was going on? What had happened? Everything had been fine a minute ago, and Lark hadn’t seemed all that upset until the Oddish had showed up. Had Jude overstepped?

“I’ve never… battled before,” mumbled Lark, so low that Jude almost didn’t hear them. Jude blinked. _What?_ “I didn’t know what to do. I’m scared. What if Snowdrop gets hurt?”

Oh.

“Oh,” said Jude, because they didn’t know what else to say. How had they never battled before? All trainers had battled a little before they became licensed. Even Jude had battled a little, though the Parasect fight had been the first one with proper stakes. “Um… how?”

Lark stared, brow wrinkling above watery eyes. “What?” They reached up and swiped at their eyes with a sniffle. Snowdrop cooed and curled against Lark’s legs, brushing her tail against Lark’s cheek. Crouched, they were short enough for Snowdrop to hop up on her back legs and lick away the tears, and she did. Lark let out a quiet laugh. “Thanks, girl.”

They pet her. Rex let out a quiet whine and pressed himself against Jude’s side. Jude used their free hand to pet him, humming a tuneless song to soothe him. He whined again and pressed closer, licking at Jude through their pants. Jude pulled their hand from Lark, lowered down onto their knees so they were kneeling. Rex climbed into their lap and burrowed as close to their chest as possible.

“Easy, buddy, easy,” murmured Jude. It’d been a while since he’d gotten so nervous, but Jude was used to comforting him. A comfort Pokémon with anxiety. There was some kind of irony in there. But Rex’s anxiety only appeared in very specific circumstances. Mostly when Jude was pushing down their own.

Oops.

“How have you never battled before?” asked Jude. “Not even a real battle, just… regular sparring, like with Genevieve or someone.”

Lark shook their head. They dropped down to sitting and pulled their knees close to their chest. “I wasn’t allowed. Gen was worried that her Pokémon would hurt Snowdrop and… I was scared too. I-I didn’t want her to get hurt.” Lark sniffled. “She’s _mine_.”

The quiet words resonated. Jude nodded. They understood. When you didn’t have a lot of your own, what you did have was far more important. Snowdrop was probably Lark’s first Pokémon. Rex was Jude’s.

In Lark’s shoes, Jude might not have battled, either. But they’d never had a choice. Climbing and exploring meant he had to take on the bug and grass Pokémon that came along, and being unable to shut up when danger came around meant they’d helped people where they could.

Rena and the train came to mind. Stupid mouth.

What was it Dad said? Something about wanting to help others, even at the behest of yourself? Something like that. Something Jude didn’t pay much attention to. They listened to most of what Dad said, but when he started on about the importance of selflessness when he and Jude lived in a town full of people who wanted Jude to roll over and pretend to be “normal” (and by “normal”, they meant neurotypical, cis, and small, three things that are impossible), it was hard to give a shit about selflessness.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” said Jude, because they didn’t know what else to say.

“No, it won’t!” said Lark. They fell back, away from Jude, and landed on their butt. Jude jolted away from Lark at their shout. Lark sniffled. “It won’t be okay. Because I can’t be a trainer if I can’t fight. How do I even train if I don’t know how to battle?” They whimpered, tears gathering in their eyes and lower lip trembling. “I don’t know _how_.” Their voice cracked and wobbled.

Jude swallowed. “What if I teach you?” They spoke before they could think about it. Sure, maybe they hadn’t battled all that much, but they knew about type match-ups and how to dodge. Something was better than nothing.

Lark sniffled and wiped at their eyes with the backs of their hands. “What? R-really? You’d do that for me?” They stared at Jude with wide, watery eyes, a few tears still falling.

Jude nodded. “Yeah, why not? It’ll take us a while to reach Windwick, anyway. Gotta pass the time somehow.” Jude gave a thumb’s up, managing a little smile that they hoped was reassuring. But really, they didn’t know. “And it’ll be fun.”

Lark gave a slow nod, letting out a shaky breath. “O-okay, I-I guess that’d work. I don’t know where to start…” They rubbed at their eyes some more and sniffled.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” said Jude, even though they knew from experience how hard that was. “We’re in this together, right? I’m not going anywhere fast, so there’s no way to slow me down, remember?”

Lark gave a little smile. “Right,” said Lark. They sniffled again. “Thank you. You’re… pretty cool.”

“Thanks,” said Jude. “I try.” They got to their feet and held out their hand. Lark grabbed it and let Jude pull them to their feet. Together, walking close but not touching, they struck back down the path, hunting for a place to camp for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment if you're up for it! They really mean a lot to me.
> 
>  **Chapter Six Fact**  
>  Pokémon Rangers have a variety of roles and jobs throughout Altera, but perhaps one of the least well-known, and most important, is the role of Route Sweepers. Every week on Sunday, a handful of Rangers will scan various routes of Altera, picking up litter, finding lost items, clearing away dangerous debris, and assessing the health of the local Pokémon. If anything is found amiss, they assess how dangerous it is, and if it is considered too dangerous, they will close the route temporarily, find and remove all trainers approaching or in the danger zone, and remove the danger or else keep the area clear until it passes. Due to this, traumatic accidents in routes have decreased drastically, and it’s been almost five years since a death in the routes.


	7. First Attempts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha migraine machine go brrr
> 
> Sorry for the wait. Things happen. I've been thinking about this fic basically constantly for weeks. So, expect more as soon as I can deliver.
> 
> There's a few more chapters in Route 1 - one or two, I think - and then we'll reach Windwick! Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! I have a ton of plot, world building, and development coming soon. And lots of exciting stuff is happening in the next few chapters.

They set up camp not long before sunset, because Jude refused to set up in the dark. It was a stupid idea, and besides, they couldn’t cover that much ground anyway, so what did it matter?

By then, Jude, Lark, and their Pokémon had found themselves in the midst of a small grouping of trees, perfect for if the weather turned harsh or the sunlight was too much to handle in the morning. The undergrowth was minor, most of it soft, and there were few rocks and raised roots in the area. What rocks there were, were small enough that Jude could set them up as a ring around a dug fire pit. Satisfied, Jude declared it their spot for the night and got to work. Unpacking, setting up a spot to sleep, clearing the ground of debris that needed to be cleared, setting up an eating area, preparing a fire pit — it was all stuff they were used to doing.

The weather was nice, so Jude didn’t bother with their tent, but they couldn’t help but notice, as they worked, that Lark seemed to have very little idea what to do. They hovered, fidgeted with their hands, and eventually dug out their sleeping bag. And, with their pack open, and where Jude was standing, they could see clear into it. The setting sun through the trees only helped.

And what Jude saw made them frown.

The pack wasn’t full, for starters, which made _no_ sense, and seemed to be mostly made up of preserved foods. And there was something rather important missing, which should have been near the top.

“You don’t have a tent.” It probably should have been a question, but Jude couldn’t figure out how to phrase it as one before the words were already falling out of their mouth. Lark looked up from where they were rolling out their sleeping bag, across the makeshift fire pit.

“Um, no,” said Lark. They nibbled on their lower lip until it turned pink with the effort. “I um. I’m not strong enough to carry one and everything else, so I had to leave it behind.” They pulled out a large blue square. “But I have a tarp!”

Jude folded their arms, their own preparations forgotten. “And what are you going to do when it rains?”

Lark blinked. “Hang it from a tree and sleep under it?” Their tone betrayed the question. Jude took in a breath through their nose before they spoke, giving their thoughts time to sort. _Lark was fine. Lark was good. Lark was fine._ There was no reason to get angry. There was no reason to get angry.

They were definitely angry. Not at Lark, though.

“Didn’t you take wilderness training?” asked Jude. They sat down next to their bag and leaned against the tree behind them, knees up and arms draped loosely across them. “It teaches you about all of this stuff.” Plus, tents weren’t that heavy. The lightest one-person tent Jude had seen hadn’t been more than three pounds. Could Lark really not add three pounds to their pack? But then, their pack was missing a lot of things.

“Um… no, not really,” said Lark, sitting down atop their sleeping bag. They crossed their legs and rested their hands where their feet crossed. They stared down at the spot, worrying their lip some more. Snowdrop and Rex ran around gathering firewood — Rex took the lead and Snowdrop studied him to see what wood to grab. They’d have enough for a good fire, soon.

Jude blinked. What? “Why not?” they asked. “They’re required classes to become a trainer.” These were facts. To get a license, you needed to pass classes. To pass the classes, you needed to know the information. Light, backpacking tents were part of that.

Lark stared at their hands, hair falling so far in their face that Jude lost sight of it. “Actually, immediate family members of higher up League members don’t have to. Because Gen is Champion, it’s assumed she’d teach me everything about being a trainer. So, I-I didn’t have to, um, take the classes. Actually. I’m sorry.” They shrunk down into themself, curling forward until their hair brushed their legs.

Jude had a lot of things that immediately came to mind, mostly, a snarky comment about Gen apparently not teaching Lark a ton, based on the size of their pack, their lack of knowledge of _weather_ , and their inability to battle. But those statements weren’t helpful. They went right into the ‘think but don’t say’ box that their social skills worker had helped them define, leaving them room to come up with helpful things to say.

But longterm silence after hard words — did this count as a confession? A secret? — was bad, too. It could lead to… doubt? Jude was pretty sure it was doubt. They desperately wanted to dig out their social skills books. This was all so new and so difficult. Skills they’d never had to use before all coming up at once.

Lark glanced up and Jude winced. Lark dropped their head again. Wrong facial expression. Oh no.

“I don’t think that’s your fault,” said Jude, because it was the only sentence that wanted to come. “You’re trying your best. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

Lark looked up, eyes misty. “Is it really that obvious?” Their words were almost a whisper.

Jude blinked. What was obvious? Jude must have implied they knew by their statement. Crap, what had they been implying with their statement? Uh. Trying their best. Don’t feel bad. Not their fault… Gen! It all came back to Gen.

Thank you _Social Skills Workbook Volume 6: Implications and Unspoken Dialogue._

“I’m not good with people,” said Jude, because it was obvious. “You might have noticed.”

Lark pressed their lips together and knit their eyebrows over their nose. Jude didn’t know that one.

“I mean, a little. But you’re nice, and supportive, and, um, you know.” Lark shrugged. Jude didn’t know. “Good.” Oh, that made sense. “You said you’re autistic, right?”

When had Jude said— Oh. Right. The argument with Gen in the café. Jude had shouted it into the wood panelling at the time, heedless of who else could hear them in the face of their anger and frustration. Lark would have heard them. As would every other patron of the café, as well as the staff. Jude winced. Actions, meet consequences.

“Yeah,” said Jude. “Never really… helped with anything with people.” They were probably pretty awkward without it, but that wasn’t worth thinking about. Their autism was part of them, developed in the womb alongside the rest of their brain. And even if not having it would make life easier, Jude wouldn’t ever wish it away. It wasn’t just _part_ of them. It _was_ them. Jude was autistic. Just like they were tall, or non-binary, or queer.

Enough said.

“Gen doesn’t really teach you much,” said Jude, getting back on topic. Then, realizing they had no real ‘proof’, they added, “Does she?”

Lark winced. “She tries her best. She’s very… busy.”

“Too busy for family she constantly lauds on television. Nice.” The words and sarcasm slid out before they could stop it and they regretted it only when Lark’s wince deepened and they ducked their head. “Sorry. For saying it, I mean. In front of you. Just because I think it’s true doesn’t mean I should say it out loud.”

How did people talk to each other? This was _hard._

Lark sighed and drew their legs up to their chest, hugging them close while resting their chin on their knees. Rex and Snowdrop trotted over with more firewood and Jude patted them both on the head before setting up the fire. This part was easy. Building the little pyramid, adding in the fire starter materials — old newspapers and twigs, in this case. It was too early in the season for pine cones — and using their skills to get it lit and crackling away.

“You’re not wrong,” whispered Lark, just barely audible over Jude’s work. “She’s very busy, but she doesn’t… really make time. I guess. I know she cares. She does so much for me. I don’t want to ask her for anything else. I should be able to figure out all this trainer stuff by myself. She did.”

“She’s an exception, not the rule,” replied Jude, before lighting the fire with a long, waterproof match. They blew gently at the small flames.

“So am I,” said Lark. Then, with a sigh, “Or… I’m _supposed_ to be. That’s what everyone says.”

Jude glanced up over the growing fire. Low smoke, because Rex was trained to look for the driest sticks and he hadn’t let Snowdrop bring anything wet over. He could always dry them out further, if need be, but he was currently pouting because Jude had used a match to light the fire instead of him.

He liked that part best, but Jude didn’t want him to overdo it in his quest to impress Snowdrop. Snowdrop, meanwhile, hadn’t seemed to notice, and was trying to climb into Lark’s skin via their hoodie.

“And what do you say?” asked Jude. They nudged Rex toward Lark and he trotted over to them, wiggling into Lark’s lap on the side opposite to Snowdrop. Lark wobbled, legs unfolding as Rex’s strong body pushed them down to make room for himself.

_Good boy._

“I don’t know,” said Lark, quietly. They stared at the ground, arms wrapped under their legs, which were still partially risen, and around the backs of their knees. Both Pokémon licked them. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

Jude let their gaze flick across Lark, taking in all the details they could. The downward tilt of their head, the way they wouldn’t look at Jude, the softness of their voice, the forward curl of their shoulders, the way they gnawed at their lower lip, and the uneven shift of their breathing, evidenced by the rise and fall of their chest and shoulders.

“You can sleep in my tent if it rains,” said Jude, because it was the only thing they could think of. Their gaze flitted to the tremble in Lark’s chest again. “And you’ve been binding too long. You should take it off. I can set up my tent if you want me too.”

Lark’s gaze snapped up, wide and terrified. “How do you—”

Jude shrugged. “Internet,” they said, because explaining all the nuances of reading forums for hours on end, reading about non-binary people and trans people who were like them in some ways and so different in others, was harder. Jude didn’t have to bind, never had. They were grateful for it, because they were too active to keep track of time like that.

But shaving sucked, even if Jude was lucky and only had to do it once in a while. Too bad there was no check box in life to opt out of all things considered gendered. And at least they weren’t at risk of growing those gross, straggly moustaches all the boys in school were competing over. Ugh. Their facial hair, when it came in, came in evenly, rather than patchy.

Still sucked, though.

“Right,” said Lark, sagging. “Right. I… sorry. I’m not… used to people acknowledging trans things.”

Jude shrugged a second time. “You’re gonna get used to it with me. I’m not one to ignore shit.” Jude narrowed their eyes. “And I mean it. I’m not letting you get injured.”

Lark gave them a little smile. “I’ll go… deal with that,” they mumbled, getting to their feet and shuffling into the trees. Jude nodded to Rex, who darted after them. Snowdrop curled up next to the fire and hummed.

“You know, you’re kind of useless,” said Jude, looking down at the Pokémon. She brr’ed at Jude and Jude rolled their eyes. “Still cute, though.” She chirruped as Jude leaned over and scratched her, waiting for Lark to come back.

* * *

The second day on the road was much better than the first. There was less awkwardness, fewer silences that needed to be filled or dealt with, and Snowdrop seemed to be thriving outside of her ball. She and Rex ran and played together, bouncing over rocks and logs, tackling one another into the dirt, and vanishing into the tall grass only to reappear elsewhere, yipping and barking at one another.

Lark took it all with a bright smile and a joyous laugh, their face lit up in a way that Jude had never seen before. For all Jude’s worrying about how Lark would fare in the wilds, they seemed to be thriving away from cameras and expectations. The stumbles and uncertainties were still in their speech, but they were less frequent than even yesterday, and when they stopped for lunch, Lark flopped back on the grass with a sigh, staring up through the trees with a bright smile on their face.

They sat in an area of flattened, tall grass. There were a few skinny trees, young, and a fallen log in the distance, but otherwise, it was the gentle bumps of dirt mounds beneath various grass. Overhead, the sun shone brightly, and Jude kept their hat pulled low to avoid squinting in the light. It smelled like summer, and dirt, and Jude took a deep breath, allowing the scent to linger on their tongue.

“This is amazing,” said Lark, giving a little laugh. “I never realized how wonderful the wilds were!”

Jude smiled from their spot on the grass, watching Lark with a soft feeling in their chest. Last night had had its awkward moments, but they’d managed to get through them, sleeping on either side of the extinguished fire pit when the time came. Jude had always slept better in the wild than in a house, something Dad said they had in common with Mom. There was something about being closer to the world, to where they all started, that put Jude’s mind at ease. Perhaps it was also the lack of expectations. According to Dad, Jude just didn’t feel normal without a healthy coating of dirt.

Jude tended to agree with that.

“Yeah, I never get sick of it out here,” said Jude, pulling out their flat bread and packaged meat and cheese to make a sandwich. There was an apple in their food as well, beckoning to them. “Though, this part of Altera is fairly different from what I’m used to.”

“You’re from the north, aren’t you?” asked Lark, picking at their own wrap. They had a small bag of carrots they were sharing with Snowdrop. “Furrowbury?”

“The very place,” agreed Jude. They wrinkled their nose and shook their head. “Much prefer it here.”

“How bad is it?” asked Lark, holding their wrap with both hands, fingers curled around it. They stared at Jude as a piece of lettuce fell into their lap, whereupon Snowdrop immediately gobbled it up. “Er… if that’s okay to ask.”

Was it? Jude wasn’t sure, but they didn’t mind.

“It’s shit. Was shit. Is shit. Will remain shit long after _I_ _’m_ shit.” Jude’s words were fast, bitter, snarling. Lark stared, eyes wide, arms slowly lowering the wrap toward an eager Snowdrop. “It’s…” Jude set down their own lunch to gesticulate, yanking a hand through their curls so hard that it hurt. “I fucking hate that town so much, Lark. I can’t _words._ ” They waved their hands around, flapping. “It’s transphobic and queerphobic and ableist as _shit_ and people thought I was some kind of fucking demon and my father wanted me to ‘be the better fucking person’ but all I wanted to do was fucking punch them all.” Jude slammed one fist into their open palm. “Furrowbury could burn and I won’t mourn it.”

Lark stared. Jude’s entire body shook with their heaving breaths.

A chirrup of triumph as Snowdrop grabbed the wrap from Lark’s hands and took off into the bushes. Lark yelped and fell backward, rolling to try and get Snowdrop, but she was already gone.

“Oh shoot,” said Lark, pushing themself upright. “Ow.”

Jude grimaced, stuffing their food into their mouth to prevent themself from saying anything more. They’d gone too far. They’d yelled. They’d shouted. Now they wanted to keep shouting. To keep yelling about how much Furrowbury was shit and how much Jude wished it’d fucking die with the old ways of Altera.

Not that the “old ways” were fucking dying. Not anytime soon.

“I… um, I don’t know what to say about… anything,” said Lark, fidgeting with their hands in their lap. “I-I guess I don’t think about places outside of the cities. I didn’t realize that the, er, towns would be so, uh, bad?” They chewed on their lower lip. “I’m sorry you went through that. Being different isn’t an excuse to be hurt.”

Jude stared.

Lark looked up. “You deserve to be treated with respect, Jude. And what you went through is terrible and I-I think that um, your anger is reasonable. I think it’s okay to be angry.”

Like a string being cut, all the tension went out of Jude. They slumped back against their bag and stared at Lark with parted lips. Their anger was reasonable? They were allowed to be upset?

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” murmured Jude, their vision unfocused. Not even Dad. He always just said they were wrong and Jude had to be better. “I… thank you.”

They hadn’t been going to thank Lark until they said it, but it felt right.

“Oh.” Lark blushed. “You’re welcome. I-I guess? Um. I’m glad I can help.”

“Do you want some lunch?” asked Jude, digging into their bag. “I have extras.”

Lark blinked. “Oh… Oh I’ll be okay…” Their stomach growled and Jude raised an eyebrow. Lark’s blush deepened. “…Maybe some lunch would be okay.”

Jude hummed and dug out another sandwich, handing it to Lark. This one was turkey and cheese. “Hope you like turkey.”

“I do, thank you,” said Lark, taking the sandwich. “And uh, thank you.”

“You said that already,” said Jude, grabbing an apple out of their bag. Two weeks on the road meant a lot of preserved foods, but the first few days were always fresh food that wouldn’t keep for long. Pig out on those, then move over to instant packaged foods, freeze-dried meals that were mostly eaten by astronauts, packaged camp foods you just added water to, powdered foods like eggs and milk, oatmeal, etc. Plus jerkies, lunch meat with a long shelf life, granola bars, nuts (which they’d have to keep for later, because Lark), packaged shredded chicken and fish. All sorts of things that Jude had decided they liked enough to carry after years of experimenting. Plus cooking supplies, of course. And spices. Jude dreaded the day they forgot basic spices, like salt and pepper and basil. They fucking loved basil.

“We’re on the road,” said Jude, before crunching on their apple and swallowing the piece. They gestured with it. “Skipping meals isn’t an option. You need to pack extra food and prepare to be out in the field longer than you think you will. Not a _lot_ extra — extra weight is extra weight, regardless of good intentions — but enough to keep you safe.” Another bite of their apple. Jude leaned back, one hand in the grass as they stared up at the sunny sky. “Unless you’re good at foraging, then you might be all right. I’ve made mushroom stew in the field before.”

“A-aren’t most mushrooms p-poisonous?” asked Lark. Jude flopped back into the grass, laying down and spreading themself out, still eating their apple.

They hummed. “Most,” they agreed. “It’s about knowing which are and which aren’t. Rex has a good nose for it.” Rex barked in agreement, flopping down next to Jude and resting his chin on their stomach. “I’ve yet to make a mistake.”

“…Wouldn’t you die if you did?”

Jude shrugged. “Probably.”

“That doesn’t scare you?” Lark’s voice was very small.

Jude stared up at the sky and thought about their response. It was weird, but they thought it made sense. “I guess…” Jude sighed. They tossed their apple core to Rex, who set it on fire and started gnawing on it. Fact about most fire-type Pokémon: they loved apple cores. And they had good nutrients for them. “I don’t know, Lark. I think because it’s only me who gets hurt if I fail that it doesn’t bother me. I’m confident in my ability to keep myself alive and safe. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be out here, even before a journey.” They pushed themself upright and shrugged, cocking their head to one side. “Does that make any sort of sense?”

“I guess,” said Lark. “But I think you’d hurt a lot more than just yourself.” Lark picked at their food, frowning. “If you died, you’d upset your family, and Rex, and your friends.”

Jude hummed. “You’re right,” they agreed. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” They’d never given it much thought at all, really. Just a sort of ‘oh well, if I die, I die’, but Lark’s comment dug into their thoughts and made them try to reorient themself. How would Dad feel? How would Rex? And well, Jude hadn’t had friends before now — if that was what Lark was — but it seemed Lark would be upset if they died.

Huh.

Death had never seemed all that scary, to Jude. Falling from heights, eating the wrong food, it never was focused on. It didn’t seem worth focusing on. Because as long as they did their best and kept pushing their skills, they’d be fine.

“I don’t understand how you can’t think about danger,” whispered Lark toward the ground, eyes steadily growing wider. “Or death. How can you go out and not be worried about getting hurt?”

“Because if I thought about all the ways things could go wrong, I’d never leave the house,” said Jude. “I’d rather face death a hundred times than be trapped inside for the rest of my life.” Hell, wasn’t that what happened with Rena? Jude had run into danger without thought, thrown themself at the angry, swarming Beedrill without worrying about their own body. Fallen off the cliff and thought only to save Rex.

They still had the bruises and marks of that fall. Yet, they’d do it again. Climb more cliffs, hang over more water, fight more angry Pokémon.

It hadn’t changed anything. Except Jude’s want to be better prepared, so that next time, Rex and the people around them wouldn’t get hurt. So that, next time, Jude was the only one at risk, because risk didn’t even register to them.

Huh.

“I… don’t think I could do that,” said Lark, softly. “If I really thought I was going to die, I think I’d stay inside.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “Even being out here? Even with everything?”

Lark shrugged. They looked up at Jude and Jude didn’t quite meet their eyes, but they saw something in them. Something soft and distant that made Jude think, strangely, of the forests near Furrowbury.

“At least if I never went outside, no one could ever yell at me about being a disappointment,” said Lark. “I’d never meet all the trainers who hate me just because I exist.”

Jude frowned. “You also wouldn’t have met me. Or Rex.”

Lark shrank in on themself. “Yeah, I guess.”

Silence. Jude swallowed. Not just because they knew this was an awkward silence, but also because they didn’t know how to break it. Nothing either of them said was wrong, so there was no reason for either of them to apologize. But Jude had upset Lark, hadn’t they? Weren’t you supposed to apologize if you upset someone?

Or was Lark upset about other things? About what they were thinking about?

Jude just didn’t know.

“Hey, do you want to start training?” asked Jude, after dragging themself through their thoughts for a few minutes.

Lark looked up from where they’d been staring at the ground since they’d finished their lunch. “Pardon?”

“Training,” said Jude. They pushed themself to their feet and clapped their hands together. They kept it light, barely a touch of skin, so that it wasn’t loud. “You wanted to learn how to battle, right? We can start now. We have nothing else to do.”

Lark slowly got to their feet. They were favouring one side, a tension in their back that had Jude frowning. They recognized that tension from their time camping and climbing. It was an injury. Something small, but building. Hopefully it would work out after a rest. Most things did. If not, Jude would see what they could do to help tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” Lark nibbled at one of their fingernails. Their hair hung in their face, obscuring their eyes. “Shouldn’t we start moving? We have a lot of ground to cover.”

Jude huffed. “An hour isn’t going to ruin our day. Besides, if we get to Windwick before you’re ready, we’ll need to spend more time training, anyway.”

“We?” asked Lark. They lifted their head enough that Jude could see the shine of their eyes through their bangs. “I… I thought.”

Jude hadn’t realized they’d made the decision before they spoke, but it was on their tongue in the next moment.

“I’m not leaving you behind. Not until I know you can fight. Not until I know you’re going to be okay on your own.” Jude folded their arms. “A gym badge can prove that.”

Lark sagged. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not,” said Jude, with a shrug. Shrug were good, right? “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. That includes spending time with people.” Jude gave a little smile, to try and ease Lark’s thoughts. They weren’t going to push Lark if they were uncomfortable, but they wanted to Lark to understand. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only person I’ve met so far worth talking to, and you’re probably the only one in the entire _challenge_ worth talking to.” Jude thought of something their father had said that always made them feel better. “Consider it selfishness.”

“Selfishness?” echoed Lark. Snowdrop rubbed against their leg and Rex bumped against Snowdrop. “How?”

Jude took a few steps, stretching, and their fingers brushed through the leaves overhead. There were more clouds in the sky than yesterday, which cast the world in partial shado and dimness that was Jude’s preferred way of living. Less harsh colours and lights, that way. The ground was hard, here. No rain for a while, then. And no run off. They must have been uphill.

“Because by dragging this out, I can spend as much time with you as I want. You’re the one with a goal in mind.” Yeah, they wanted to see the Pokémon professor, and yeah, they were worried about everything. But they needed to be stronger to take on the wild Pokémon. They needed to put their heart at ease that Lark wasn’t going to _die_ the moment that Jude walked away from them. “Okay?”

Lark looked up, smiling. “Okay.”

“All right,” said Jude. They put their hands on their hips. “So, what moves does Snowdrop know?”

Lark blinked. “Um…” They looked down at her and she cooed at them. “Powder Snow? And… Tail Whip?” They dug out their phone and opened it, squinting as they tapped away. Jude waited. “I think that’s it. I don’t think she has any egg moves. No one ever told me.”

Jude nodded. “Okay…” They took a second to breathe, because Lark barely knowing what moves Snowdrop knew was… a little frustrating. Not that it was Lark’s fault. But Jude’s growing dislike of Genevieve scarcely needed more fuel.

“I’m sorry.”

Jude shook their head. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” They kept repeating it to themself as they whistled to call Rex to their side. He looked up at them and Jude looked down. Jude rocked from side to side, shifting their weight back and forth as they stretched their arms and legs out. “All right, buddy. We’re going to help Lark and Snowdrop learn how to battle. I want you to be gentle with Snowdrop. You’ve got a type advantage and a lot more experience. Can you go easy on them both?” He barked in affirmation. “All right. Let’s start then.”

Lark took a shaky breath. “Okay, Snowdrop. Are you okay to learn how to battle?” Snowdrop chirruped and bounced in front of Lark, darting back and forth on her little paws. Her tail was up and little icy particles floated around her. Around her, some of the grass started to frost over. Lark took a breath and squared their stance. “How do we start?”

Jude opened their mouth, stopped, and blinked.

“I have no idea.”

“I’m sorry.” Lark sagged. Why were they— Jude took another breath. Right, okay. Planning. Thoughts. They could do this. They could find a solution. Something that would get Lark to stop being so sad all the time. It had to be awful, to be that sad and self-blaming all the time. Jude couldn’t imagine always feeling like that. It must have weighed them down. Maybe that was why Lark slumped so much.

“It’s okay.” Jude chewed on the inside of their cheek and spread their hands. “Most Pokémon understand their moves instinctively. If you ask Snowdrop to perform a move, she’ll probably know how to some extent.” Jude looked down at Rex and tried to look cheerful. “You up for getting a little chilly?”

He barked, tail still wagging, and bounded in front of Jude, so he stood directly across from the still bouncing Snowdrop. The grass was short here, so both Pokémon and trainers had a clear shot of each other. Plus, there was nothing close to Rex that he could accidentally set on fire and torch the whole area with.

Jude turned their attention back to Lark. “Ask Snowdrop to use Powder Snow on Rex. That’ll show us where we’re starting.” It sounded like a good plan. And confidence was key in teaching, wasn’t it? It certainly _seemed_ like it. Considering confidence was all half of their teachers had had, back in Furrowbury.

Lark nodded. Their hands were clasped together in front of them, not far below their chin. “O-okay. I’ll try.” They took a deep breath. “Um, Snowdrop?” She looked up at Lark. “Use Powder Snow on Rex?” It came out as a question, but Snowdrop seemed to get the idea. She leaped forward, icy crystals glittering in the air around her, and blew out a blast of sparkling snow and ice crystals. Rex braced himself and took it, head on. Some of the snow caught Jude in the legs, but it only briefly chilled them before fading.

Weak, but a good start. And it could only get better from here.

“Not bad,” said Jude. “Thank you, Rex.” He barked.

Lark’s eyes shone like the morning sun. “I did it,” they whispered, just loud enough for Jude to hear. “I did it! I did it! I used a move!” Lark jumped up and down, fists in the air “Woohoo!” They spun in a circle and Jude couldn’t help but get caught up in the moment. They laughed alongside Lark and Lark stopped, spun around to face Jude, and turned bright red. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” said Jude, shaking their head, thumbs in their belt loops. Then, a little bolder, “Great, actually.” They couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s cute.”

Lark’s flush turned darker. “O-oh. Okay.” They tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Right, now, let’s keep going,” said Jude. “An important part of battling is being able to take hits. If you can’t stay calm in the face of your Pokémon getting hurt, you won’t be able to get them out of dangerous situations.” The irony of talking about Pokémon injury wasn’t lost on Jude. They panicked a _lot_ whenever Rex got hurt, but at least they could keep going. They just berated themself for it later.

As long as they kept it together in the moment, nothing else mattered.

Lark visibly swallowed, the joy in their eyes fading. Jude couldn’t place the current emotion, but the wide eyes, down-turned brows, and trembling lip made them think of sadness.

Why was Lark sad? Maybe they didn’t like Pokémon getting hurt, either.

The breeze blew at Lark’s hair, giving Jude a better look at their face, but they didn’t couldn’t place the expression beyond that. Damn it. Snowdrop yipped, leaping at Rex before darting back. Feinting, that was the word. She seemed to be a natural. At least Genevieve had gotten _something_ right when picking out Snowdrop.

“I’m going to have Rex use Tackle on Snowdrop now,” said Jude. “And you’re going to let her get hurt, just like I did with him. Okay?”

Lark nodded, bowing their head far enough that it hid their eyes from view. At least now Jude didn’t have to pretend to keep eye contact.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” asked Lark, their voice so low that Jude almost didn’t hear.

“Yeah,” said Jude, kicking lightly at the ground beneath their feet. They stuffed their hands in their pants’ pockets and shrugged. “Neutral typing, beginner move. She’ll be fine. We have all the medicine we need, too.”

Lark nodded, still staring at the ground. “O-okay.”

“Rex, use Tackle on Snowdrop,” said Jude. “And try to go easy on her.”

Rex barked and leaped for Snowdrop. A second later he slammed into her side, sending them both sprawling across the grass. Lark yelped half a second after Snowdrop did, their hands flying up to hide their face. Rex tucked and came back up on his feet, shoulders down and eyes on Snowdrop as she struggled to push herself upright.

“Oh Arceus,” breathed Lark. “Snowdrop, are you okay?” They scurried to Snowdrop and collapsed to their knees, pulling her close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would hurt that badly. Oh, I’m such a terrible trainer.” Lark buried their face into Snowdrop’s fur and let out something that sounded enough like a sob to stop all the words in Jude’s throat.

Hadn’t Jude been in this situation only days ago, on the train? The fear that they were a failure, because Rex had gotten hurt. The fear that they were a failure, because Rex wasn’t perfect. The fear that they were a failure, because _they_ weren’t perfect. How did trainers do it?

Yet while Jude had pushed it aside and kept fighting, kept going, Lark bowed to the pressure and hid in Snowdrop’s fur. Backed down.

Why?

“Are—” Jude stopped. How the hell were they supposed to respond to this? What were they supposed to say?

“Can we stop for today?” asked Lark, mostly into Snowdrop’s fur. Jude nodded, uncertain.

“Sure. Let’s get going,” said Jude, slowly. They moved away to grab their things and sighed to themself. Training Lark was going to be a lot harder than they expected. How were they going to train Lark if Lark was scared of fighting?

Together, the two gathered their things in silence. They took their time, then headed back onto the trail, neither one really speaking for sometime. Instead, they watched their Pokémon dance around one another. And if Lark kept a closer eye on Snowdrop than usual, Jude didn’t say anything about it.

* * *

The next morning, Jude tidied up and readied their bag without waking Lark. They were curled in on themself, tucked against a tree with a furrow in their brow and a pinch in their expression. Snowdrop was curled in Lark’s arms, sleeping peacefully.

Rex hurried around the campsite with Jude, tucking away sticks and rocks back where they belonged. He also tucked some more fire starting materials into the extra pockets in Jude’s bag, so they had them, just in case.

By the time Jude was ready to go, Lark was still sleeping, and Jude hesitated. Should they wake Lark? They seemed tired. But they kept talking about how they didn’t want to slow down Jude. And if they were sleeping this late — a little after nine, by Jude’s phone — then maybe something was wrong? The injury from yesterday sprung to Jude’s mind.

Stupid. They should have asked Lark about it when they first noticed. Of course Lark wouldn’t say anything. Lark didn’t want to be a burden.

And people who didn’t want to be burdens never said what they needed. Jude knew that.

Jude _did_ that.

Jude crouched down next to Lark and nudged their shoulder with one hand. Lark’s brow furrowed and they let out a quiet noise of frustration. Jude nudged them again. Rex nudged them as well, tugging at one of their arms.

Slowly, with quiet noises, Lark’s eyes fluttered open and they squinted at Jude. They were pale — even paler than they’d been, the last few days — and their eyes were bruised by heavy shadows.

“You okay?” asked Jude, furrowing their brow. “It’s after nine.”

Lark tried to push themself upright, then grimaced and dropped back into their sleeping bag.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jude. Their gaze swept across Lark, looking for obvious injuries. Bruises, scratches, the like. But there was nothing there as far as Jude could tell. Sure, Lark was mostly covered, but their sleeping bag was nice and padded, and they were sleeping on a soft part of the ground.

What was going on?

“Nothing,” said Lark, pushing themself up a little. They winced, lowering themself back down onto their elbows. “Really, I-I’m fine.”

“You don’t _look_ fine,” said Jude. Lark dropped almost entirely onto their back. They closed their eyes and lifted one hand to rub their face. The shudder of their breathing and twitching of their shoulders betrayed how much pain they were in. Pokémon, animals, reacted much the same way as humans. They hid injuries from those around them, struggled with pains that caused laboured breathing, and backed themselves into corners to make last stands.

Except the last one probably wasn’t possible for Lark, seeing as they couldn’t even stand up.

Lark pulled their hand from their eyes and stared up at the sky with the sort of glassy look that most Pokémon got when they were first sedated. But that look quickly gave way to trembling lips and a pinch to Lark’s face, which degraded further into sniffles and tears in less than a minute.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Lark, tears leaking out of their eyes and streaking down into the hair that fluffed around their ears. “I didn’t realize— I mean, I _did_ realize, but I hoped. I thought…” They pressed the heels of both hands into their eyes and let out a whine that put Rex’s to shame. “I’m sorry. You should just leave me behind.”

Jude blinked. Wait, _what_?

“No.” The word fell out of them before they could stop it. “No. Why would I do that? I said I wouldn’t leave you behind. I said—” They stopped and shook their head. Lark had to remember. “I’m especially not leaving you alone if you’re hurt. Why would I do that?” Repeat. “Why would I do that?” Repeat. “Why would I do that?” Jude shook their head before they could keep going. Stop repeating. Stop repeating. Stop repeating or you’ll get _stuck._ Stuck. “What happened?”

Lark didn’t move their hands. With their hands covering their face, it blocked what of Lark’s facial expression that Jude could decode. They were in the dark, only having Lark’s tears and words to go on. They were upset. That much was clear. And in pain. But what else?

“Nothing… happened.” Slow words. Pained? Maybe hesitant. Or maybe they were thinking about each word and their mind was going slow from the pain. Too many options.

Around them, bird Pokémon chirruped in the trees. They were in a small grouping of crooked trees, mostly in the shade. Not ten feet from where Jude had set up, there was a break in the cover that led out into the bright and sunny tall grass. The hills were more prevalent now, rolling and lumpy and beckoning. But they were still much lower than they’d be the closer they got to Windwick, and while the forest hadn’t started yet, the trees were growing more common by the way, and it made for a decent break from the harsh, June sun.

Snowdrop wiggled out of Lark’s arms and bounded around, staring up at the bug Pokémon that watched Rex and Jude, waiting to see if they’d strike.

Pokémon were easy. Especially the more prey-like ones. It was too bad people weren’t like that. Though, Lark reminded Jude of a prey animal, if they stopped to think about it.

Skittish, terrified, backed into a corner. Like a Deerling caught in the headlights of a car. It either went well for everyone, or ended poorly for one.

“This is normal for me.” Lark’s voice was so low that Jude had to strain to here. “The last few days…” A sigh. What did it mean? “I knew this would happen. I-I-I’m not supposed to go so far or-or so fast and I-I’m sorry. I should ha-ave told you and I didn’t and I’m so _stupid_.”

“You’re not stupid.” Was Jude cutting Lark off? They couldn’t tell anymore. But they weren’t letting Lark beat themself up. “What do you mean you knew this would happen? Are you sick?”

They had to be sick, like the Pokémon at Dad’s practice.

Lark sighed again. “Yes. Always. That’s…” A third sigh. Hopefully, Lark could breathe all right between them. “That’s kind of how chronic illness works.”

Jude blinked. Chronic— “You’re chronically ill?” asked Jude. Stupid question. Lark had just said they were.

Lark nodded. They pulled their hands from their face and laid them on their chest. “Y-yeah I…” Their head lolled to one side, away from Jude, toward the tree. A glimpse of colour as they opened their eyes. Staring. Red eyes. Red ears. Red nose. Red, red, red against the pale, pale, pale. “Do you know what Fibromyalgia is?”

“No idea,” said Jude. They didn’t bother with body language, because Lark wasn’t looking at them. Instead, they held themself very still and tried to focus their mind on Lark, to absorb as much as they could. They didn’t want to make this worse. To help, they let their gaze track the movements of Rex and Snowdrop. The two were circling a tree full of Butterfree, obviously intent in getting at them. To battle, to play, or both, who knew?

“It’s… pain,” said Lark. Their voice dipped low and high, sometimes easily heard and other times so quiet that Jude had to strain to hear. “Nerve pain. It’s everywhere, and it never goes away.” Jude heard a shift in the tone, wet, and looked back at Lark to see they were crying again. Tears slipping silently down their cheeks. Not that tears made noise. But usually people acknowledged them.

“Oh,” said Jude, because they didn’t know what else to say.

Lark pushed themself up on wobbling arms, wincing every inch of the way. They shuffled until their back was against the tree near their sleeping bag and wrapped their arms around their risen legs. With their chin atop their knees, they stared down at their feet, most of their body still tucked away in their sleeping bag, and let out a sigh so large it seemed to deflate them to half their normal size.

“Gen never wanted me to go on a journey — a normal one — because I hurt _all the time_. A-and I don’t tell people that I hurt because I-I don’t want them to feel _bad_ for me.” They sniffled. “But we were going so _fast_ and there’s so much walking and I just can’t keep up.” Their voice broke as more tears slipped down their cheeks. A wobbly sob spilled from their lips and Lark lifted one hand to wipe at their tears with the heel of their palm. “I’m sorry. I’m not a good travel partner. I never should have tried.”

Jude took a breath. Then another. Then a third, just to be certain they’d gathered their thoughts.

“You being slower than me doesn’t bother me,” said Jude, starting with what they figured was the most important. “I told you, I’m not in a rush, and I won’t leave you behind. Not because I feel bad for you,” though they did, just a little, “but because you’re interesting, and I enjoy talking to you.” That was the truth, too. Just because Lark make Jude feel sad and frustrated on their behalf didn’t mean Jude wasn’t growing to like them. “If we have to stop some days, if we have to go even slower. That’s fine. I’m not leaving.” Jude took a deep breath and lifted their chin. “I’m not leaving you behind.”

Lark stared at them. Jude stared at a spot over Lark’s left ear to keep from fidgeting under their gaze.

“You really mean that?” whispered Lark.

Jude nodded. Chanced a glance at Lark’s face and saw large, wide eyes, downward turned lips that were slightly pursed, and eyebrows angled down near their ears. Sorrow, maybe. Sadness. Something that started with an ‘S’.

“Everyone who wants to go on a journey deserves to go on one that won’t hurt them,” said Jude. They dropped their gaze to their hands, which they fidgeted with in their lap. Two of their knuckles were redder than normal. They’d been tugging at them longer than they’d noticed. Oops. “I have to avoid noise. When I couldn’t, you gave me ear plugs. Why is accommodating for your limitations any different than accommodating for mine?”

The League tried to be accessible, but there were still strides to be made. Support and assistive Pokémon and people were free to those who needed them, but the process to get them was complicated and frustrating, at best. Jude had been turned down twice. Hoops and loops and parading around for doctors and dimwits wasn’t their idea of a good time and they weren’t going to do it again. Not if they didn’t have to.

Still, Jude saw disabled trainers in the circuit when they looked. Trainers in wheelchairs or with walkers or canes. Blind trainers, Deaf trainers, amputee trainers. Trainers with prosthetic limbs and translators of a sort. Trainers with Pokémon they rode or Pokémon that carried them. Sure, most of them never got very far, but Nolan was in the Elite Four — even if he was insufferable — and he wore hearing aids. Visible ones, at that. Surely, there were others that Jude wasn’t aware of.

Surely, everyone deserved to be a trainer if they wanted to be. Even if Jude thought the League was bullshit. Even if Jude didn’t think journeys should be as they were. Even if Jude thought that the mental well-being of would-be trainers was more important than the culture they’d created around the gyms and the League and the concept of being the very best.

But if mental health was so far down on the list of things important to the Pokémon League, then why would the rest be any higher up? And even if it _was_ the right thing to do, when did what was right and deserved change the ever-hungry monolith of the bullshit that was the League?

“I…” Lark pressed their lips together hard enough to turn them white. “I guess it’s not.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Jude nodded. “You’re welcome.” They pushed themself to their feet. “You can rest for today, or for however long you need. I’ll unpack and set up camp again, properly, and make us something to eat — can you eat?” Lark nodded. “Right. I’ll make food. I can make food.” Jude dug through their bag and hummed to themself. “If it takes a few days, that’s okay. I can email the Pokémon Professor.” They wanted to know what was going on. But they wouldn’t hurt Lark. There was no point in hurting someone. Not like this. Jude liked Lark. Hurting Lark to help nameless people that may or may not be helped by Jude’s actions was pointless. Stupid. Harmful.

Counterintuitive.

Jude asked, “Do you need anything?”

Lark shook their head when Jude looked back at them.

“You’re… very kind,” said Lark, softly.

Jude shrugged and stretched their back, arms above their head. “Kindness is hard. I like challenges.” Before they could say anything else, Snowdrop dove between the trees and sprinted for the long grass. “Shit. Hang on, I’ll get her. Rex!” Jude was already running as they spoke, Rex catching up fast and tearing off ahead. He dove into the long grass and let out a growl as Jude shoved in after him, hearing chattering and shrieking and baying as they went.

Ten, twenty, fifty feet out from the camp and going further. Then—

Starly. Half a dozen of them. They surrounded Snowdrop, who had dropped to the ground and had her paws over her closed eyes, as if to protect them.

“Shit,” hissed Jude. “Rex, use—” A hesitation. Rex didn’t know any moves that Starly was weak to. But if he missed and hit Snowdrop, he could seriously hurt her. “Iron Tail!” Rex looked back at Jude, as if to question them. “Just trust me.” He nodded, barked, and launched himself into the air with a glowing tail. He slammed into one of the Starly and slashed his tail at another.

Jude squared themself. “Snowdrop! You need to use Powder Snow. Starly is weak to it, you’ll be able to take them down!” they called. Snowdrop cried out as a Starly pecked at her. Rex shoved another Starly aside. One was fainted, but the others kept circling. What the hell was going on with wild Pokémon? “I know you’re scared,” called Jude, and they did, because they were too. So fucking scared. If both Pokémon went down, they’d be helpless out here. And if Snowdrop went down, not only would it hurt her, but it’d hurt Lark too. And Jude. And Rex. No matter who got hurt, they’d all hurt.

It was stupid. Stupid. _Stupid._

Jude continued, “But you have to try. You want to get big and protect Lark, right? To do that, you have to fight.” Snowdrop wanted to fight. Jude had seen it yesterday. She wanted to learn. She wanted to battle. She just needed confidence.

Rex yelped as two Starly hit him from different directions. Too fast to track and Jude had been distracted. _Focus._ He went rolling, splayed in the dirt. Shoved himself back up, mouth glowing with fire. _Don_ _’t hit Snowdrop, please don’t hit Snowdrop._ Fire sprayed from his mouth and torched the wing tips of a Starly. Rex snarled and launched himself over Snowdrop, slamming into the side of a Starly hard enough to send them both sprawling.

“Rex!” called Jude. Shit. If he fainted— No. Don’t think negatively. It won’t help now. “Snowdrop, please. Please try.”

The four remaining Starly circled Rex. Two of them had glowing wings. One of them was moving so quickly that Jude couldn’t track it. The fourth circled above them all, shrieking and shrieking. Jude covered their ears. _Fuck_ , that hurt.

A different sort of shriek filled the air and icy cold wind blew all around Jude. Snow pelted two of the four remaining Starly, sending them careening into a nearby tree. Snowdrop was on her feet, eyes and mouth glowing a brilliant, icy blue. But the blue wasn’t Powder Snow, or any move that Jude recognized.

Snowdrop shrieked as she shot the blue light from her mouth. It was a beam of white and blue, spinning together and growing wider. It slammed into the fast Starly and spiralled up into the air to stab the other. Both dropped to the ground, frozen. The ice shattered as they hit the ground. The two Starly shook themselves out of their half-frozen fog and all four Starly took off, covered in frost and hauling their two fallen friends.

“Holy shit,” breathed Jude. They fumbled for their phone, yanking it out of their pocket and opening the Pokédex app before it was too late. The audio, which Jude had turned on in the settings, spoke aloud into the icy space.

_“Freeze-Dry. A powerful Ice move, Freeze-Dry is a Special-type, damaging dealing move that has a moderate chance of freezing the opponent. The Pokémon rapidly cools the target with a glowing beam of ice-based light, removing a great deal of heat from their body and the surrounding area. Unlike most moves, Freeze-Dry is super effective against Water-type Pokémon, even in inverse battles or if its typing has been changed. It is only available as a bred move for Alolan Vulpix.”_

Jude stared at their phone, then at Snowdrop, then at their phone again. They stuffed it back in their pocket and looked for Rex, who shuffled out from behind a tree, where he’d apparently ducked during the encounter.

“You okay, buddy?” they asked. They knelt down and patted him on the head. He nuzzled into their hand and let out a happy little bark. Somewhat injured, but Jude had supplies to help. Their hands were trembling, but it was fine. They were all _fine._ Fuck. “Well, Snowdrop. I’d say that was pretty great for your first try.” Their voice wobbled a little as they spoke and Jude swallowed hard against a lump in their throat. Snowdrop let out a happy chirp and leaped over Rex and into Jude’s arms. Jude laughed, startled, as they fell back into the grass, stroking Snowdrop’s icy fur. “You okay?” She chirped again, almost beaming at Jude. “Good. I’m glad. I was worried about you for a second.”

Snowdrop chirruped and tackled Rex off of Jude, sending them both sprawling and tumbling around. Scorch marks and frost twisted into the surrounding grass as they went rolling together, and Snowdrop’s chirps and Rex’s barks mixed into something that sounded almost like laughter, in Jude’s ears.

“Let’s go check on Lark, all right?” said Jude. “C’mon. Don’t want to worry them.” They shoved themself to their feet and dusted off their hands on their already dusty pants. It mostly worked. And it helped get their hands to stop trembling.

Rex and Snowdrop rolled together, bounding over one another as they raced ahead of Jude. Frost clung to Snowdrop, and she stumbled a bit as she walked, proof of the injuries she’d sustained in the battle. Rex lagged at points as well, clearly tired and worn out from fighting. But he was trying to be strong, for Jude, for Snowdrop, or for both, and Jude commended him for it.

As they returned to camp, Snowdrop kept close to Rex, glancing over her shoulder at Jude every few seconds. Anxiety clung to her, in a way that Jude knew from watching injured Pokémon at their dad’s practice. She’d done well, in battle, but now the anxiety returned. It reminded Jude, a bit, of themself. In the moment, they could fight. But afterwards, all the fear and doubt always came back.

Something to work on, with a battling Pokémon. And with themself.

The three came back into camp to find Lark sitting up against a tree, sipping water from their canteen and looking pale, small, and exhausted. Shadows beneath their eyes that were bruises at first glance. The leaves threw real shadows across Lark, the sunlight making their skin look sickly in the few places it shone through the foliage overhead. On the breeze, the scent of wood and grass and mulch. Nesting grounds, then. Nearby, too. Jude would have to scout for them and make sure none of them stumbled across the nests by accident. They didn’t need Pokémon attacking them for _good_ reason on top of reasons unknown.

“Snowdrop!” called Lark, but their voice was small despite their shout. “Oh Arceus, are you all right?” Snowdrop hobbled over to Lark, favouring her front left leg as she went. She climbed into Lark’s lap, who hugged her tightly, and licked at the tears on Lark’s face. “What happened?” Lark asked Jude.

Jude dug into their pack for their Pokémon first aid kit. Rex stood watch, his fur up and his head swinging from side to side. Jude could relate. Those Starly had come out of nowhere and disappeared just as fast. What the hell was going on? Something else to tell the professor, when Jude got to Windwick.

“She was attacked by some Starly,” said Jude. Lark gasped. “We managed. Rex started the fight and Snowdrop finished it.” Jude dug out the first aid kit, straightened, and turned. They passed an oran berry to Rex, who quickly gobbled it down with a huff. Then, Jude headed over to Lark and sat down across from them, cross-legged. The ground was soft here, old undergrowth fallen away to soft moss and grass that created a gentle layer above the firmer dirt and tree roots. “You were wrong, by the way. She knows more than two moves — she has a breeding move.”

Lark’s head snapped up to look at Jude from where they’d been staring at Snowdrop. Their eyes were wide, but Jude paid Lark’s face little mind as they opened the first aid kit and set to work. Online tutorials, studied in the night while they’d been trapped in Dawnmere, made for good reminders on top of practice from Dad’s practice. They pulled an oran berry from a cheese cloth and held it out to Snowdrop, who snatched it up like a starving person might. She gobbled it eagerly, holding it between both paws as she tore into the soft, blue flesh of the berry.

“Really?” asked Lark. “Is she okay? She’s injured, isn’t she?”

“Yes, really. Yes, she’s okay. The injuries are minor,” said Jude. Everything shut down outside of helping Snowdrop. The smell of Potion and antiseptic wipes strong as Jude pulled a wipe to clean Snowdrop’s injury, then sprayed the areas around her ear and on her leg with the Potion. Already, the marks were healing. In a few hours, they’d be gone. By nightfall, the fur would be back. The joys of Potions and modern medicine. As well as Pokémon. Only creatures on the planet that could heal this fast, and it was something that had fascinated Jude for years. “Just let her rest with you, today, and she’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” said Lark. “How do you know all this, anyway?”

“My Dad’s a Pokémon vet,” said Jude, already turning to help Rex. He wandered over to Jude and Jude sent to work spraying Potion at the worn spots on him, and the areas he held out to Jude. When that was done, Jude tucked everything away and put the waste into a plastic, zip-locked bag. They’d dispose of it in the city. “She’s fine, powerful, and fine.”

“What move is it?” asked Lark, stroking Snowdrop’s fur as Jude stroked Rex’s fur. He nuzzled into them, eyes closed. He’d done well. Amazingly well, and his reaction to the battle helped soothe the frayed edges of Jude’s nerves. If he could handle a battle that scary, then Jude could handle sending him into one. Or at least, they hoped they could.

“Freeze-Dry.”

Lark paused. Then, they stared up at Jude and Jude had to look at the trees to avoid their gaze. “Really?” There was something in their voice, but Jude couldn’t place it.

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” said Lark. “That’s a really good move.” A pause. “Thank you, for helping her, and me. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s fine,” said Jude, feeling awkward. “I’m gonna make food. You rest.”

Lark hummed and laid with the two Pokémon while Jude unpacked and started cooking. As they did, they couldn’t help but run over the fight in their mind. What was going on with the wild Pokémon? They’d have to be on their guard, if they were attacking on the routes, especially with Lark having chronic pain and needing to rest.

And maybe, just maybe, to deal with all this, Jude needed a second Pokémon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply loved and appreciated, thank you!
> 
> **Chapter 7 Fact**  
>  Accessibility and Aide Pokémon are free to citizens of Altera, provided they meet the requirements. These Pokémon range from sight-seeing Pokémon to interpreter Pokémon to aide Pokémon meant for seizures, veterans, anxiety, and much more. There are hundreds of Pokémon that can fill these roles, such as psychic Pokémon, quadrupedal Pokémon, and even two-legged, humanoid Pokémon. A Gogoat can be used as a mobility aid Pokémon, while a Meowstic might be trained in anxiety and stress management. A Persian might be a sight-seeing Pokémon, and a Machop could be a basic assistant Pokémon, helping with carrying groceries or preparing meals.


	8. New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice that there are new tags on the fic. Heed them, because most of them are applied to this chapter. The story was always going to get serious and a little darker, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. Don't worry, there's no grimdark or edginess here because I don't do that. All shadows have their purpose, and their light sources are visible, so to speak.
> 
> Also, the main character Pokemon are safe from death. Don't worry about that.
> 
> Um... cheers? Hope you like it!

They rested for the day, mostly quiet and doing their own thing. Jude spent some time going through their social skills workbooks, reviewing the notes that they didn’t remember and making their way through the newest book they had. It was mostly a review volume, designed by their worker to help them with problem emotions and expressions. Suffice to say, the book was very, very thick (metaphorically, it was an ebook) and included most emotions, expressions, and body language. Basically, everything.

Jude had never taken enough interest in understanding and dissecting emotions, before they started trying to get their license, to remember anything long term. Anger was pretty easy, so was disgust, but that was self-preservation, not interest. As long as you understood those, you’d be fine, or so they’d always thought.

Sitting with Lark, day after day, made Jude reconsider.

But that was all Jude did that day.

The next day, sometime around eleven in the morning, Lark was feeling up to try and start walking again. They wouldn’t go too far, or too fast, just in case, but Lark wanted to get moving and Jude wasn’t one to question people’s opinions on their own limits and abilities.

Jude stretched as the two set off back down the worn path of Route 1. This section of Route 1 had handfuls of trees clustered around small water pockets and little meadows filled with moss, rocks, and fallen logs. It meant they weren’t in the sun as often, on this stretch of path, and also that there was decent shelter from whatever rain fell, but it also meant that walking was much slower. Plus, there were more furrows in the ground now, though they were out of the way of the path.

After about an hour, the setting changed.

To the sides, old farms, and with them, farming Pokémon. Or the descendants of them turned wild once more. This was one of the places in the region with wild Mareep and Wooloo, and they were _adorable._ Add in the Lillipup running around to harass them, mostly in fun, and it made for a picturesque day on the road.

“Do you think most of the trainers caught one?” asked Lark. Their shoulders were slumped, despite the lack of bag on their back. Instead, it was strapped atop Jude’s things. It weighed even less than they’d expected. Something to fix in Windwick.

Rex and Snowdrop ran ahead of them, barking and yipping, and rolling around in the grass and dirt together.

“Depends on the kind of trainer, I suppose,” said Jude, stretching their arms above their head to work out a kink in their shoulders. “Competitive trainers might look at Mareep and Wooloo and presume they have little potential. I’d guess more caught Lillipup, or Starly, from before.” They grimaced at the reminder of the day before yesterday. “Mareep has a lot of potential, and so does Wooloo, depending on the type of trainer.”

Jude tilted their head to one side, then the other. The two paused on the route to watch the sheep Pokémon. Rex tore off into the field, barking all the way. Snowdrop sprinted after him, yipping her own version of a bark and throwing frost into the tall grass all around her. Most of the Wooloo and Mareep ran off in the other direction, but the grass rustled and from it came a Mareep slightly smaller than the rest. It dove for Rex, but he ducked and slammed into it from the underside. The Mareep went flying and hit Snowdrop, sending them both tumbling into the grass.

“Think you can handle it?” asked Jude, casting a glance down at Lark. Lark squared their shoulders.

“Electric-type,” they murmured, lips forming a tight frown. “That means…”

“The only thing it’s weak to is Ground, and Snowdrop doesn’t have any Ground moves,” said Jude. They folded their arms across their chest. “But it also shouldn’t have anything that will do more than basic damage to Snowdrop. She’ll be okay.” Jude nodded their head at the two Pokémon, who were now circling each other. Rex watched, sitting, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling as he watched the two dance. “Go ahead. You can do it.” They pushed as much sincerity into their voice as they could, because they were sincere, and they wanted Lark to know it.

“Okay,” said Lark. They took a deep breath. “Okay.” They stepped forward, into the grass. “Okay.” Lark lifted their chin. “Snowdrop!” Snowdrop’s head cocked, one ear swivelling back to listen to Lark. “Start with Powder Snow!”

Snowdrop yipped and leaped back, mouth glowing. Snowflakes formed all around her and fired from her mouth, a flurry of them launching for the Mareep. The Mareep dove off to the left, rolling onto its side. It came up with glowing eyes. The yellow-white glow quickly spread to the rest of its body.

“What’s—” started Lark, but Jude cut them off.

“Thunder Shock,” said Jude. “It’s Thunder Shock.” Which meant it was probably more powerful than Snowdrop. “Tell her to dodge!”

“Dodge it, Snowdrop!” shouted Lark, a split second after Jude finished speaking. Lightning erupted from the Mareep and launched for Snowdrop, who rolled out of the way. “Use Freeze-Dry.”

Snowdrop glanced at Lark.

“Snowdrop,” said Lark, clasping their hands together in front of them. “Please.”

Snowdrop’s eyes glowed as she looked at the Mareep, who was still glowing yellow. A moment later, the yellow glow faded and the Mareep looked incredibly confused. Its head swung back and forth and it baa’d rather pathetically.

“What was that?” asked Lark, eyes wide and one hand curled up near their mouth.

Jude ran known moves through their head as fast as they could. Mareep launched itself at Snowdrop while both trainers were distracted. It tackled Snowdrop into the dirt and both vanished into the long grass.

“Snowdrop,” called Lark, gasping. They ran forward.

“It was Disable,” shouted Jude, racing after them. “Mareep can’t use Thunder Shock anymore.”

“Well at least there’s that,” said Lark, with a sigh. “I—This is—” Snowdrop shoved herself to her feet and grinned, mouth and eyes glowing. “She’s—”

“Freeze-Dry,” supplied Jude, without thinking. Snowdrop leapt into the air and flipped over, firing the icy blue and white beam at the Mareep. The Mareep bleated and went rolling as the ice crept up its body. Its feet were frozen into blocks when it stood and it went sliding across the dirt, baa-ing all the way.

Snowdrop chased after it, mouth still glowing.

Mareep ran in circles away from Snowdrop, sending other Mareep and Wooloo scattering around the area. Rex chased after one, mouth glowing with fire.

“Don’t you dare!” shouted Jude after him.

“What do I do?” asked Lark, staring at Jude, then at Snowdrop and the Mareep, then back at Jude. They were trembling at the shoulders, hands up near their mouth. Their voice wobbled as they spoke.

The Mareep broke through the ice on its feet and dove behind Lark, peering out from behind their legs at Snowdrop. Snowdrop’s mouth started glowing again. “Ack! Don’t!” Lark waved their hands at Snowdrop. “Please don’t. Please, please, please don’t hurt me.”

Snowdrop’s mouth stopped glowing. The Mareep bumped them in the legs. Lark wobbled, arms flailing, and shouted. Jude darted forward and grabbed one of Lark’s arms, righting them before they could fall.

“I think it wants you to catch it,” said Jude, nodding to the Mareep. The Mareep bleated in response, staring up at them with its big, soft, black eyes. “See?”

Lark nibbled on their lower lip, one hand curled into a fist against their chin. “Is… is that okay? Am I allowed?”

Jude nodded. “You’re a trainer. You’re allowed to have a whole team.” They shrugged. “And an Ampharos is a fantastic Pokémon. Powerful, loyal, gentle. They’re also great weather predictors.” What else did they know about the species? “Mareep wool is shockproof and waterproof.” They tapped their chin. “And they’re very docile creatures. It’s a very easy Pokémon species to raise, both domestically and for training. I think it’d suit you well.” Jude blinked, wincing. “If you’re into that, of course.” They had presumed far too much.

A lot of what they said could be interpreted as Jude perceiving Lark to be weak, submissive, and without the strength to train more difficult Pokémon. Which might have been true, but a) Jude didn’t know Lark well enough to make such terrible accusations, and b) it was very, very rude to say such things about your friends.

Truth and rude sometimes went hand in hand and it was important to remember that being polite was more important than being truthful in most cases.

“Okay. Okay.” Lark took a deep breath and reached for their belt. Like Jude, like all trainers, Lark had a Pokéball belt consisting of six Pokéballs. Unlike Jude, Lark kept theirs at their waist, actually holding up their pants. Jude’s was strapped across their front, over one shoulder and across the opposite hip.

Lark grabbed a Pokéball and expanded it. “Do you think it’s weak enough?” they asked, staring at Jude with wide eyes. “If it doesn’t work…”

“Just try,” said Jude, trying to sound gentle. “You’ll be okay.”

Lark stumbled away from the Mareep and spun around to face it. “Okay. I can do this.” They puffed up a bit, cheeks burning red and ears little red flags. “I can do this.” Lark looked at Jude and winced. “I just… throw it, right?” Jude nodded. “Okay.”

Lark drew back their arm and threw the Pokéball at the Mareep. It careened through the air, sailing over the Mareep’s head by a few inches. As it landed, it smacked into a small rock in the grass, rolled back toward them all, and bumped into the Mareep’s hoof. A split second before the Pokéball activated, the Mareep let out a pathetic bleat. Then, it vanished in a shock of bright red energy.

The ball closed, the button blinking. It wobbled back and forth, back and forth, the button blinking and the Pokéball beeping. Jude held their breath, waiting to see what would happen. Lark had their hands over their face and was peering through their eyes.

After what seemed like a few impossibly long seconds, the ball stopped wobbling, the beeping turned to a _click_ , and the button changed from red to green before fading back to white.

“…I did it,” said Lark, slowly lowering their hands. They let out a breathy laugh and bounced in place. “I-I did it! I caught a Pokémon.” They raced forward and stumbled, snatching up the Pokéball and righting themself before they fell over. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it.” They spun to face Jude and Jude smiled at Lark’s beaming face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. I have a second Pokémon!” Lark cheered and jumped up and down, whooping and shouting as they threw their arms into the air. “I’m a real trainer now!”

Jude stuffed their hands in their pockets and let out a quiet laugh. Where was the shy, insecure trainer from days ago — moments ago, even — now? Vanished into excitement and good cheer. Bright eyes were something Jude had trouble seeing most of the time. They usually figured it was metaphorical, though not in any way they could see, but with Lark, it was something visible.

Their fingers vibrated in their pockets, begging them to happy flap alongside Lark’s bouncing and cheering. It _was_ exciting. Lark had a second Pokémon. They’d managed to capture something with only a little help. Hell, they’d even managed to have a Pokémon battle without panicking over Snowdrop getting hit.

A lot of progress in just a few days.

But they didn’t know Lark well enough to know if they’d be cool with happy flapping. And everyone back home, except Dad, was always weird and angry about it. Instead, their fingers vibrated and ached in their pockets and Jude pretended it didn’t hurt.

“…What do I do now?” asked Lark, staring at Jude with wide eyes. “I have no idea what to do. Should I have captured it? How do I train two Pokémon?” Lark tugged at their hair with both hands. “ _Ahhhhh._ ”

Words. Where were words? How did words?

“Pokédex,” said Jude. They wiggled their fingers in their pockets, trying to get the words out. But the words weren’t coming. “Pokédex,” they said again, more emphatically. Would Lark understand?

“Oh!” said Lark. “Okay.” They pulled their phone from their pocket and opened it. “Let’s see… Pokédex app… Oh, here we go.” Lark held the phone in one hand and the Pokéball in the other. “This say she’s female, and an adolescent.” A pause. “That means she’s… a teenager?” Lark looked at Jude. Jude nodded. “Okay, cool. Um, her ability is Static and she knows Tackle, Growl, Thunder Wave, and Thunder Shock.” Lark looked up. “Did you know all of that?”

Jude shrugged, still unable to get the words out. They’d put most of it together. The sex non-withstanding, because most Pokémon didn’t have sexual dimorphism. Static was the most common ability, and Thunder Shock had been the most likely candidate for her most powerful move, thus the other three moves made sense.

But it was interesting to see where they’d been wrong — they’d assumed Defense Curl, rather than Growl — and correct for the future.

Lark stared at their Pokéball for a minute longer, eyes practically sparkling. Then, they tucked it away on their belt and danced around a bit more.

“This is amazing. Thank you _so much_.” They beamed at Jude and Jude gave a little smile back.

“We should heal her, before we get going,” said Jude, the words sliding free. _Thank Arceus._ They slid off their bags and dug out the first aid kit. “Regular Pokéballs don’t heal freshly caught Pokémon. We’ll need to check on her hooves and give her a bit of a Potion, just to be safe. Then, she’ll be good to go for training and travelling.” Potion in hand, Jude looked up at Lark, who crouched down next to them, Pokéball in hand.

“Will she like me?” whispered Lark. “I did just capture her.”

Jude nodded. “Pokémon who allow themselves to be captured are often already loyal to the person who captures them. However, Pokéballs do instill a feeling of loyalty to the owner. Pokémon still have free will. It’s not control it’s more like…” Jude hesitated, trying to find the word. “Good vibes, I guess?”

Lark giggled. “That’s a funny image. A Pokéball telling a Pokémon that their new trainer is ‘chill’.”

Jude couldn’t help but snicker at the image alongside Lark. Now that _was_ an image. It was really too bad that Pokéballs couldn’t talk, like the Rotom Dex in Galar. Of course, there were only a dozen Rotom Dexes in the whole region, and Galar was the only region with them, but it was still a thought.

With a little nod, and a tremble in their shoulders, Lark released their new Mareep from the ball.

She blinked as she solidified, looking around and squinting a bit. She gave a bleat and leaned into Lark, then bleated again and lifted one hoof from the ground.

“Is she okay?” asked Lark, looking to Jude as they petted their new Pokémon. Jude cracked the Potion open and held out one hand.

“She’ll be fine,” said Jude. “Gimme your foot, little one. I can help.” The Mareep squinted at Jude, then held out the hurt hoof. She trembled all over as Jude gently took her leg and sprayed the Potion onto the injured hoof. With another bleat, she yanked back her foot and stumbled into Lark.

Jude nodded to her. “Go ahead,” they said. “Try it out.”

The Mareep, with great hesitation, set down her hoof. She jerked it back up immediately, stared at it, then set it down again. With a ‘baa’, she ran around in circles around the two and bumped into Snowdrop, who nuzzled into her.

Already friends.

“Well,” said Jude, sealing up the first aid kit and tucking it all away. “Do you have a name for her?”

“Candy,” said Lark, watching their two Pokémon with a smile. “You know, like cotton candy?”

Ah. That made sense. “I like it,” said Jude. Then, checking the sky, “Shall we get going then?”

Lark nodded, slow. “Are you sure you don’t want to capture anything here?”

“I’m sure.” Jude swung their packs onto their back and adjusted everything so it was even. They whistled for Rex, who sprinted out of the grass, looking like he’d been in trouble. At Jude’s raised eyebrows, he merely sat down and wagged his tail, tongue lolling. “When I find my second Pokémon, I’ll know it.”

They just had a feeling.

* * *

Jude and Lark had been walking along Route 1 for a few more hours, passed lunch, in companionable silence when a piercing voice cut through the calm.

“Jude?” High, shrill, and echoing across the otherwise peaceful path. Jude froze, jaw locking and entire body going tense as the voice tore through their calm. “Oh my gosh, my knight in shining armour! How are you?”

Jude sighed and turned around, already preparing for the hurricane of pink and noise.

“Hi, Rena,” said Jude, voice flat. They rubbed the bridge of their nose with one hand, wincing at the pain already gathering behind their eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Rena giggled, jogging up to them. She was still dressed as oddly ever, in brightly coloured skirts and a patterned shirt underneath a bright vest with deep pockets. Unlike Lark, Rena wore a large, well-organized pack in the same ridiculously vibrant colours as the rest of her. Her hair was pulled into two massive puffs on either side of her head, like over-saturated cotton candy.

And yet she still made the flowers look ugly with her splendour. Jude could have picked apart such a thing for weeks and never understood the answer. But beauty had always alluded them.

“I’m on a journey, just like you,” said Rena. She paused just outside of arm’s reach of Jude — thank Arceus — and put her hands on her hips. “I gotta say, I’m super surprised to see you. I totally thought you’d be halfway to Windwick by now.”

Jude shrugged and stuffed their hands in their pockets. “Not in a rush, really.” They tilted their head to the side, indicating Lark, who was partially hiding behind Jude’s arm. “This is Lark. Lark, Rena. She’s the one I tried to rescue from Beedrill.”

Rena huffed and blew some hair from her face. “You absolutely did. I’ll take waterlogged and bruised over stung and _maimed_ any day of the week.” She squinted at Lark, who retreated further behind Jude. “Lark? You’re not Lark Harrow, are you?” Lark nodded. Rena gasped, hands flying up to cover her face. “Oh my Mew, it’s so nice to meet you! Hi! I’m such a big fan—” of Genevieve, supplied Jude, “—of Holland, your soon-to-be-in-law, right? They do such amazing work with rehabilitating Pokémon.” A pause. “And I mean, your sister is cool too. The whole League is awesome, but the biology work that Holland does just fascinates me.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Lark. They shuffled out from behind Jude, head bowed, shoulders curled inward, hands fiddling in front of them. “Holland is lovely.”

Rena beamed. “I bet.” Rena eyed Jude. “Got to say Jude, I did _not_ peg you for travelling with the future Champion.” Lark shrunk further. “Word on the street is that _you_ got into a _massive_ row with Genevieve Harrow in a public restaurant.” She tugged at some of her curls, twisting them, pulling them, before releasing them so they popped back into her side puff, and shook her head, tutting. “Trying to make up for a bad first impression?”

Jude snorted. “Not even close. Lark’s a good person. I don’t mind travelling with someone…” Jude hesitated, gaze flicking up and down Rena, “…tolerable.”

Rena gave a breathy laugh through her nose. “Oh, _ouch_ , I felt that one. You know, forget shining armour, how about black armour?” Jude raised an eyebrow. “You know, because you’re kind of abrasive?”

“Ah,” said Jude, raising an eyebrow at Rena. “That _does_ suit me a bit more.” They folded their arms across their chest and glanced, sideways, at Lark. Lark didn’t look at either of them. They were tugging at their hair with one hand, half-hugging themself with the other. That emotion was easy — hurt, fear, or something close. Redirect and protect. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a journey to continue on. Wouldn’t want to _slow you down._ ” Emotions were hard. Tone was harder. But Jude drug the hard edge into their voice by choice, letting their pitch dip until it growled against their teeth.

Rena smiled, higher on one side, teeth showing, nose curled up. “Well, well, I know when I’m not wanted. Lemme just grab Beeps and I’ll—” Rena stopped and looked around. “Beeps? Beeps? Where’d you go, buddy?”

Dread pooled in Jude’s stomach and they looked down to see that Rex had vanished. Snowdrop remained at Lark’s heels, glaring up at Rena with all the force a tiny Pokémon could manage, though Rena didn’t seem to care, but Rex was gone.

Oh, this was bad. Because Jude had a _fairly_ good idea where he’d gone.

An Elgyem, the same one Jude had seen with Rena before, came bursting out of the trees, beeping and shrieking as he flew forward. He was maybe four feet off the ground. Behind him, mouth glowing with fire, came Rex, sprinting after him. He barked, loud and obnoxious, tearing after the Elgyem, Beeps, as he flew away from Rex as fast as he could.

“Shit, Rex!” called Jude. “Get off of him. Get back here.”

But Rex wasn’t listening. He ran through the underbrush and around the knees of the three trainers, making them all yelp. Beeps swirled around them, higher up, his beeping noises growing more and more frantic by the second.

“Ah, Beeps!” said Rena. “Come on, buddy, don’t run away. You gotta stand up to him and tell him who’s boss!”

Jude looked at Rena. “In what world can he beat Rex?”

Rena glared. “Do you have a problem with my Beeps?”

Jude folded their arms. Beeps? No. But psychic-types always rubbed them the wrong way. There was something to them that Jude didn’t trust. So many of them could control minds. So many of them could read thoughts. And yet humans couldn’t understand most of them. It was creepy. Even if plenty of them were cute.

“No, but I have a problem with the idea that Rex is weak,” said Jude. They were a _good trainer_. They’d been working on it. They’d helped with Snowdrop. They were _still_ helping Snowdrop and Lark. And the insinuation that Rex was weak, and therefore Jude was weak and inadequate, tinted the edges of their vision red and had their ears ringing.

“Uh-Um,” said Lark. “H-he’s using a new move.”

Jude spun, eyes wide, and watched as Rex launched himself into the air. No fire in his mouth, no glowing tail. His teeth were glowing. Bright white, then metallic, bigger and bolder than they should have been.

_Bite._

He chomped down on Beeps’ arm and the Elgyem squealed before Rex chucked him into the air. Jude swore, Lark squeaked, and Rena gasped as Beeps flew up into the air and then came back down, hitting the ground. Hard.

He didn’t get back up.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

Rena and Jude both raced to Beeps, Rena stumbling to her knees and Jude skidding on their own. Jude reached out to Beeps and Rena slapped their hand. Jude jerked, cradling their hand close to their chest and watching as Rena scooped the unconscious Pokémon into her arms.

“Oh, Mew, this isn’t good,” breathed Rena. “Why was your Pokémon attacking Beeps?” Rena stared at Jude with tears and betrayal burning in her eyes. “What is your _problem_?”

Jude bristled. “I don’t _have_ a problem,” they snapped. “Rex doesn’t attack unprovoked. Which means yours had to—”

“ _Mine_? I didn’t do anything. Beeps didn’t do anything.”

Red. Red. Black. Vision blurred at the edges and heart beating loud in their ears. Everything howled and screamed and itched until Jude wanted to claw their head open or—

_Claw hers._

Jude bared their teeth. “Yeah? And who’s been attacked already? You sure you don’t instigate shit you can’t handle?” _Bite._ Find the weakness and dig in. Push it away, push it away. Redirect. She had no _right_ to attack Rex, or Jude. She had—

“You said you believed me,” said Rena, voice soft and high as she twitched back from Jude, eyes wide and mouth fallen open. “You said you believed me when I said the Beedrill just attacked me.”

The past. The hospital room. Talking to Rena. It inched in under the hatred and fear and anger and—

The soft, injured girl twirling with her hair and calling Jude their knight in shining armour. The sweet girl with the bubblegum hair and the laughter that had made Jude’s fingers itch for charcoal and paper.

Dread.

“I’m sorry,” breathed Jude, falling back from Rena, eyes wide and hands gripping the dirt and grass behind them. “Arceus, _fuck_ , I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” Why did they always do this? Rena didn’t deserve their wrath. That was for bigots and assholes and snarling, animalistic bastards. Not her. Not the giggling, bubblegum anthropologist.

Jude took a deep breath. “Is he okay?”

Rena stared at Jude, but the anger was gone as far as they could tell. She had a look closer to… fear? Confusion? Betrayal?

Fuck.

“He’s just knocked out,” said Rena, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think yours did any real damage.” She cast a glance at Beeps. “He’s my only Pokémon, though.”

Jude swallowed. “I can patch him up, if you want. I’ve worked with vets a lot.” They looked back at Beeps, then around for Rex. “I don’t know why Rex attacked him, I’m sorry.” Jude took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering exhale that made their eyes prickle. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

With a slow, shaky nod, Rena cradled Beeps closer in her arms. “That’d be nice.” She licked her lips, which were tinted purple from what Jude assumed was lip gloss. “Maybe they were playing?” She shook her head. “Or maybe he has your temper.”

Jude grimaced. “There’s a thought.” Their words tasted bitter. “Fuck.”

“You keep saying that,” said Rena.

Jude scowled. “Gimme a better word and I’ll use it,” they snapped.

Rex crept out of the bushes, coming into view before either Rena or Jude could speak again, not that Jude knew what they’d say. It pulsated in them, half anger and half despair, unsure how to proceed without lashing out. They _wanted_ to lash out. Wanted to snap and snarl at Rena until she stopped with these claims that made no sense.

Rex whined and nudged Jude’s foot with his muzzle. He bit into Jude’s pant leg and tugged, yanking Jude toward the bushes. Jude glanced at Rena, curled around Beeps, at Lark, half-hidden behind a tree with Snowdrop at their heels. Shoving themself to their feet, Jude followed after Rex, into the bushes.

The two stomped through underbrush and thick bushes, across flowers and long grass and fallen branches and leaves. Through climbing plants that clung to the bark of trees older than the rules of the League. The crack of plant matter and sticks was loud in the quiet afternoon, louder still as the Pokémon above fell silent as Jude passed beneath them.

Silence.

Jude swallowed as the hairs on the back of their neck stood to attention.

Above, the spotty sun slipped through the breaks in the clouds and the leaves, and the breeze and warmth brushed against Jude’s face and tugged through their curls.

The smell hit before anything else. The sharp iron of blood against the loamy soil and plant matter. The wind twisting to throw fresh death into Jude’s sweat-streaked face.

Then, the sight. Or site. The site of the death.

It was a Weedle. It _had_ been a Weedle. Now, it was just a body. A dead, blood-streaked body that had obviously been ravaged by… something.

Jude blinked. Hard. Fast. Tried to shake free of the shock that settled like cold, brackish water against their skin. Licked at their pores and pressed deep into their body, beneath muscle tissue and into bone marrow. Until the cold came from within.

One, breath. Two. In through the mouth, out through the mouth. Don’t smell anything. Don’t smell _anything._

One by one Jude shut down their emotions and zeroed in on the facts, the same way they would if an injured Pokémon came into Dad’s vet practice.

Weedle, approximately adult age. Obviously harmed by outside forces. Lacerations, bit off pieces, the horn torn and gone, and a missing eye. Blood, approximately most of its bodily content of blood, soaked into the ground beneath it. _Something_ had gotten to it. _Something_ had killed it. And killed it for no reason other than to kill it.

Jude crouched down in front of the body and closed its remaining eye.

“May Yveltal take you, my friend. May Cresselia grant you the dreams you deserve and may your life energy allow Xerneas to bring forth such wonders as we’ve never seen.” Jude made the symbol of Arceus above where the Weedle’s heart would be before pressing a kiss into the side of their closed fist. “Rest, my child. Rest, and know you are safe forever more.”

Jude pulled themself to their feet and looked up to the trees. “You can come out now,” called Jude. “Bury your dead. Mourn your loss. We won’t bother you anymore.” They turned away from the Weedle and let out a shaky breath. “Come on, Rex.”

Back through the overgrowth and the looming trees. Through the gloomy, cloudy weather and the plants that clung to life against stronger forms. Through the fallen life that cried out with its crunching and snapping as Jude trampled its chances of strength and survival.

Back to Lark. To Rena.

To questions they could now answer.

Rena was still on the ground, cradling her unconscious Elgyem in her arms. Lark hovered near a tree, half hidden behind low branches and peering out between a handful of leaves.

“I know what happened,” said Jude, casting their gaze from Lark to Rena. They inclined their head back where they’d come. “There’s a dead Weedle in the grass, not far from here. Pokémon tend to react badly to death, especially if they’ve never seen it before.” Flat voice. Not enough energy to bother with emotions. It was easier, safer, to keep them off.

“Dead?” echoed Lark, in a voice so quiet Jude almost missed it. “Really dead?”

Jude nodded and folded their arms across their chest. “Yeah. Dead.” They looked down at Rex. He’d seen death in some ways — in the vet practice, but Jude had kept him from the more violent deaths, just as their dad had kept them from those deaths in turn. “Pokémon lash out under great duress. Seeing one of their own like that would do it.” Stressors, pressure points. Inducing violence and panic in those that witnessed it.

Jude dug their fingers into their skin and ground their teeth. Their jaw clicked in their ears. Jude paid it no mind.

“Your Elgyem must have panicked when he saw the body.” Jude breathed sharp through their nose. “Rex isn’t used to death, either. He would have panicked. With the wild Pokémon hiding, the only targets were each other.” Another breath. A shudder ran through their body, digging at their spine and sending their nerves alight. “An accident.”

Rena looked up at Jude, eyes narrowed. “An accident that cost Beeps his health and me, my safety.” Rena huffed. “I only have one Pokémon. Without him, what am I supposed to do?” Rena glared.

“Run from whatever comes your way?” Jude raised both eyebrows. “Though, based on experience, that’s not your style.”

Rena huffed again, blowing a loose curl from her face. “Are you still willing to heal him?” Jude nodded. “Then maybe you should do that instead of criticizing me.”

That counted as criticism? Whatever. Jude couldn’t bring themself to care. There was too damn much going on in their head. White noise that grew louder by the minute and a faint buzzing sensation around the edges of their vision as it came in and out of focus.

Jude slid their bags to the ground and dug out the first aid kit before shuffling up to Rena and Beeps, sitting across from them.

First, they needed to check for injuries. They held out their arms to Rena and, with slow, jerky motions, Rena passed him off to Jude. Jude only let their fingertips brush Beeps as they ran their hands across his small body, searching for injuries. No real pressure, no pulling, no tugging. Just light touches that sought out injuries and problem areas.

A few scrapes from branches, a bruise where he’d hit the ground, and two puncture marks from where Rex had bit him. No blood, thank Arceus, but the marks were deep enough for Jude to frown.

When had Rex learned Bite, anyway?

Jude passed Beeps back to Rena when they finished, supporting his head until they were certain she had him. That done, Jude dug into the kit and pulled out the yellow-brown diamond shaped medicine that was a Revive.

“Superficial injuries,” said Jude, drumming the fingers of their free hand on their knee. “I’ll need to use a Potion, wrap the bite with some bandages, but otherwise, he’ll be okay. Open his mouth.” Rena slipped two fingers into Beeps’ mouth and drew it open. Jude pressed the medicine inside and closed his mouth, tilting his head back and rubbing his throat until they felt him swallow.

With a nod, they dug the half-empty Potion out of their first aid kit and set to work on spraying his injuries, with focus on the scrapes rather than the bruise. Bruises were trickier to heal and usually had to heal on their own.

The bite got the most attention. Potion, antibiotic ointment, then wrapping the clean, white bandages around the spot on his shoulder. Snip, fasten with medical tape, then tidying up and putting it all away.

“When will he wake up?” asked Rena, as Jude tucked the kit back into their bag.

Jude checked their phone. “Give him a minute. Shouldn’t be long now.” Usually it took about five minutes for regular Revives to kick in and start working. Max Revives worked faster, through use of adrenaline, but they weren’t as safe. There was no immediate danger, so Jude wasn’t about to risk it.

“Thanks.” Rena’s voice was low, spoken into her lap rather than to Jude. “I appreciate your help.”

Jude shrugged. “No trouble. Rex did hurt him. And it doesn’t look like he got much of a chance to tag Rex back.” Rex looked fine, if a little ruffled and shaken from the dead Pokémon. As if Beeps hadn’t gotten a single hit off of him. Granted, Confusion wasn’t a great move on a good day. And today had not been a good day for Beeps.

“Lark, you okay?” asked Jude, standing and looking to where Lark was hiding. “Sorry for the yelling.”

“Is there really a dead Pokémon nearby?” asked Lark, voice small and spoken into the leaves. Jude nodded. “…What do we do? Do we call a Ranger?”

“For something this small? No,” said Jude, shaking their head. “The other Pokémon in the area will bury their own, especially Bug-types. They aren’t solitary creatures. Typically large family units.” Reciting facts was easy. Easier than processing the noise in their head and their vision, and the taste of sawdust and iron on their tongue. “I’m more concerned with what _did_ that.” The image of the Weedle remained when Jude closed their eyes.

The other Pokémon couldn’t have been too much bigger than the Weedle, but much more vicious. Why had it attacked? Why go to the trouble to kill it? Weedle weren’t territorial Pokémon, nor did their food sources overlap with most predators’. There was no good reason for that Weedle to be dead.

And yet, it was.

Malice. Violence for the sake of violence. That wasn’t the way of Pokémon, that was the way of _people._ Had a trainer killed that Weedle?

Jude just didn’t know.

“Would it have been something big?” asked Rena, as she pushed herself to her feet. “Something we couldn’t face?”

Jude shook their head. “No. It had to be smaller.” Jude sighed and reached up, pulling off their hat to tug their hands through their hair. “But I have no idea what could have done that.”

A gentle beeping brushed Jude’s ears and they turned to see Beeps pushing himself upright in Rena’s arms. He wobbled as he floated above her hands, then settled himself atop her head, laying on his stomach. The lights on his hands spun in a couple different patterns.

“Hey, buddy,” said Rena, smiling up at him. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Do you feel better?” He beeped in affirmation, cheerful and warm. Rena looked at Jude. “Thanks.”

Jude nodded.

Rena grimaced. Jude raised an eyebrow. What?

“Okay, I’m going to sound like I’m doing a one-eighty here, but I really, really don’t want to travel alone if there’s a dead Pokémon nearby. Beeps isn’t all that powerful and it’s just me and him, you know?” She tugged at a loose curl, spinning it around one finger. “I totally get if you say no, but could we travel with you? You’re headed to Windwick, right? So am I. I wanna talk with my aunt about that Beedrill attack.” She put her free hand on her hip. “I won’t get in the way. I know how to camp. I’d just appreciate the protection.”

Jude looked to Lark, who shuffled out from behind the branches, hands close to their chest and shoulders curled inward.

“We shouldn’t let her travel alone,” Lark said to the ground. “It’s dangerous. The Beedrill, the Starly, now this?” Lark looked up at Jude, their pupils huge against their two-toned irises. Jude jerked their gaze into Lark’s hairline, swallowing as the hairs on the back of their neck rose. “She could get hurt, Jude.”

Jude sighed. “Fine.” The word was bitter on their tongue. “You can travel with us to Windwick, but that’s it. I’ve got plans, too, you know. I’ve got to talk to the Pokémon professor.” Jude crouched to pick up the bags.

“Oh! I can help with that,” said Rena.

Jude slung on the bags, stood, and raised an eyebrow at Rena, who beamed.

“That’s my aunt! I can make sure you get in to see her really fast.” Rena bounced in place and Beeps cooed. “This is great. We can both talk to her — and you’ve seen more than I have, right?” Jude nodded. “That’s awesome. That’ll be great for the case. Aunt Holly will take us super seriously if we have more than one thing to point to. Science and data and all that.”

“Right,” said Jude. They chewed on their tongue. They cast another glance to Lark, who was still silent. With Rena around, they’d gone very quiet, and Jude didn’t know what to make of that. Where was the happy trainer from this morning? Where was the person who’d caught the Mareep?

Gone, apparently, and Jude didn’t know how to get them back.

“Let’s get going,” said Jude. They turned and headed back down the worn path of Route 1, rolling everything over in their head.

They’d talk to Lark later, alone, just to check in. Jude wasn’t spending the rest of Route 1 talking to Rena and not Lark.

They _liked_ Lark. And even if Lark wanted to help Rena, that didn’t mean they should suffer for it.

And Jude wasn’t about to let their new friend lose the voice they had only just gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fact of the Day**  
>  Death rites for humans, owned Pokemon, and wild Pokemon are incredibly different, but all relate to the Legendaries. Cremation is the most common form of death ritual, with others being based on local religions and faiths. Wild Pokemon are, in many cases, left to their families, as it is considered rude to remove them. Only in cases of large Pokemon, Pokemon in the way of travelled paths, or in other dangerous or otherwise unusual circumstances do Rangers step in to deal with the bodies. Often, a trainer and their team is left to rest together after funeral rites.
> 
> Comments are loved and appreciated. Thank you!


	9. The Reality of the Food Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio approaches the end of route one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! Sorry about that. I had to replot a crap-ton of the story at this point because a bunch of stuff I wanted to do no longer worked. Thankfully, I've sorted it all out.
> 
> Fun things:   
> There is extra information on my [Tumblr!](https://lacependragon.tumblr.com/tagged/sonder) under the Sonder tag (linked). Take a look to see what is coming and some stuff on characters.
> 
> We have a [TV Tropes Page](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/Sonder) now! Feel free to read it and add to it.
> 
> I really love this fic and am adoring working on it. It's been a wonderful break amidst the pain of 2020. I hope it can bring some relief to all of you.
> 
> TWs in the end notes.
> 
> On with the show!

“You don’t have a tent.” Rena tilted her head to look at Lark with a furrowed brow. “That’s weird. You’re weird. Why?”

Jude tensed, hands clenching at their sides as they stared down at the two bags that laid at their feet. The sun was setting, their pausing for the night delayed by bad ground that would have made camping impossible. Deep holes in the ground filled with maybe an inch of water apiece. It hadn’t rained in almost a fortnight and the ground was hard and dry, the standing water that insects thrived in at an unseasonal low.

“What makes you think they don’t?” asked Jude. Mentally, they began to count to ten. “We haven’t set up yet.”

Rena huffed. Jude didn’t look at her.

“ _Well_ , you’re carrying two bags and Lark isn’t carrying anything. I assume you’re carrying both.” Words directed to Jude, but they refused to check. “And I’d also wager that yours is the larger and Lark’s is the smaller.” A second huff. Jude reached ten and began to count backward, to one. “And Lark’s bag doesn’t seem big enough to hold a tent.”

Count to ten and back to one. As many times as it took to calm down. Jude just had to keep counting.

“So you’re making biased assumptions based on incomplete information,” said Jude, still staring down at the bags. Their eyes burned. When had they last blinked?

Blink. The world remained the same.

Blink. Everything was red-tinted.

_Blink._ And Jude wanted to scream.

They’d lost count. Time to start at one again.

“I— I don’t really think that’s fair,” said Rena.

Jude lifted their head and pivoted around in one motion, finding Rena by the bubblegum of her hair. “And you are?”

Rena scowled. “That’s rude.”

“So are you,” said Jude. They looked to Lark, who sat on a log, hugging their knees. Snowdrop and Candy both crowded around them, cooing and nuzzling at them. Lark didn’t move. Their own eyes seemed to follow the fallen leaves that danced in the light breeze.

“Hey, that’s not—”

“We should set up,” said Jude, to Lark. Rena could do whatever she wanted. Jude frowned, pressing their lips together.

_You okay?_ They wanted to ask. But they couldn’t. Not with Rena here.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

* * *

The days passed much the same as before, only not at all the same. They walked, Rena talked, Jude and Rena glared at one another, Lark said little to nothing. They caught no other Pokémon, they battled where they could, and Rena and Jude continued to argue.

And so it went.

Then, after days of the same awful travelling, when Jude thought nothing would change, the rain came.

The clouds rolled through the sky, blanketing blue with deep grey in less than a hour. The winds grew, whipping through the trees and sending leaves and sticks clattering into the travelling trio.

On the wind was the smell of ozone, of water, of the sickly damp that dug into the soil and crept up all exposed skin.

Jude paused, touching the bark of a nearby tree. The tree felt different, though Jude couldn’t explain how. The leaves were turned toward the sky, angular and funnelling toward the trunk. The flowers in the shadows of the tree were much the same. They were all waiting, straining.

Even the wild Pokémon were changing shifts, so to speak. Most of them in hiding in the trees, tucked into the holes in the trunks that gave them shelter. The only ones still out were water-types, lingering in open spaces and staring up at the sky as if in reverence.

“We need to set-up shelter,” said Jude. They looked to Rena and Lark. The winds buffeted Lark, leaving them leaning against trees whenever they could. Rena’s hair flew in all directions, a cotton candy cloud that refused to be tamed. “We’re running out of time.”

Rena huffed and folded her arms across her chest. She flipped her hair, but it flew back in her face. “How do you know?” she asked, lifting her chin. “We have time.”

“No,” said Jude. “We don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Jude shrugged. “Fine, then keep walking.” Jude looked to Lark. “Shall we?”

Lark looked from Jude, to Rena, and back again. Rena frowned. Lark sighed, then gave a little nod to Jude.

“You’re being ridiculous,” called Rena, as Jude struck out to find shelter off the worn path. “We have plenty of time!”

As if on cue, which would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so annoying, a fat droplet of rain landed on Jude’s noise. Then another on their arm. Then another, and another, until it began to pour.

“Told you,” muttered Jude, dropping the bags at the base of a tree and yanking out their tarp. “Help me get this set-up!” They lifted their voice as the winds picked up even further. A mighty howl in the distance that might have been Pokémon or might have been weather.

_Shit._

The rain splattered against the Jude’s body and hat, smearing their vision and turning the world around them into a foggy, disorienting landscape.

Jude unfolded the tarp, whistling for Rex. “Keep everything dry, but don’t burn it down, all right buddy?” Rex barked in response, tail wagging as he trotted around and warmed and dried everything in the area. “Lark, please?”

Lark nodded and hurried over. “What do I do?” they asked, voice low.

Jude dug out the ties for the tarp, swiping a hand across their forehead. “Grab a corner and a tie, stretch it out and watch what I do.” They moved for a tree and tied the tarp to the trunk just above their head, pulling it tight before sliding along the edge of the tarp, finding another tree.

“I’m shorter than you,” said Lark.

“That’s good. We need the tarp to be angled, so that there’s a run off. We’re on flat land and I’ve taken the wind into account. We should be okay.”

Rena ducked under the tarp as Jude finished tying the second corner. They moved to help Lark, who made a quiet noise of distress, much like a wounded Pokémon, at the state of their knots. Rena didn’t help. Jude couldn’t say they were surprised.

“Wouldn’t the tarp be better on the ground?” asked Rena.

Jude slipped up next to Lark and took the ropes from them. “Like this,” they said, voice low as they showed Lark the knot. “See? You need to twist the ropes like this or the knot won’t hold.”

Lark nodded.

Over their shoulder, Jude said, “Second tarp.”

“Oh. Smart thinking,” said Rena.

Jude snorted and followed Lark to the fourth corner, holding it up while they watched Lark work the knot. Lark had their lips pressed in a firm line, brows knit together atop the bridge of their nose. When they released the knot, they looked up at Jude, who nodded.

Nice work.

“Right. Second tarp and tent. Let’s get to work,” said Jude. Lark gave a jerky nod.

The two worked together, Rex and Snowdrop underfoot and Candy put away so her wool didn’t get soaked. It was slow-going, because Jude hadn’t had to set up the tent yet and Lark had no idea what they were doing, but they managed it well enough. Rena had a pop-up tent that definitely weighed more than Jude’s. Those few extra pounds could have been put to much better use.

“Um,” said Lark, once the tent was set up and Jude had stowed their bags within it (thankfully they hadn’t gotten _too_ wet and they’d mostly dried out under their makeshift canopy thanks to Rex), “could you help me with my tarp…”

“You’re sleeping in my tent,” said Jude, flatly. They brushed off their hands and stood, partially hunched over, and looked down at Lark, who stared up at them with wide eyes. “It’s cold. It’s wet. You’ll get sick. There’s room in my tent and you have a sleeping bag. It will work.” Jude blinked. Were they being too harsh? Too angry? Too firm? It was so hard to tell. “If that’s all right.”

Lark sagged and nodded, arms hanging limp at their sides. “That would be nice, yes.”

“Right,” said Jude with a sharp nod. They tapped their fingers together. “Rex? Find us some wood.”

Rex gathered wood alongside Snowdrop while Jude set up a safe space to start a fire. Not long after, Rex had the fire going and everyone was sitting on the ground tarp, warming themselves against the fire.

They’d need to eat, soon, but Jude’s stomach still churned from their frustration. Though it was probably better to get Lark to eat sooner than later. Chronic pain, according to the research they’d done a few nights ago on their data, was affected by a lot of things. Diet, exercise, hydration, and regular sleep were all strong parts of it.

Lark was allergic to nuts, which limited their protein intake on the road, but there were other ways to get protein. Just had to prep for them in Windwick…

Arceus, if their dad could see them now. He’d probably pat Jude on the shoulder and tell them they were just like him. Or maybe Mom. Not that Jude would remember.

“You two certainly are a pair,” said Rena, with a laugh. “Carrying Lark’s bag, setting up a tent for you both.” She laced her fingers below her chin. “My, my. You could almost say you’re courting the poor dear.”

_Courting?_ What was that— Romance movies flooded Jude’s memory. All the cheesy ones they’d watched with Dad because he adored them so much. Ah. _That._

Jude’s ears burned. “That’s not _remotely_ what’s going on.”

Rena raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” She leaned forward, elbows braced on her folded legs. “Could really take how you act the wrong way there, Jude.”

Jude scowled. “That’s because people like to make assumptions based on things they think they see.” Jude stabbed at the fire with their stick, watching as the flames jumped higher. The heat in their head had nothing to do with the fire. “Communication is bullshit.”

“Well said,” said Rena, and Jude knew enough to know that was probably sarcasm. “Though you tend to live that, considering how the only time we ever talk is to yell at each other.”

Jude stared Rena down over the fire, raising their eyebrows. “Give me a good reason not to yell at you, then we’ll talk.”

Rena rolled her eyes. “You are just a bundle of joy, aren’t you?” She tossed her head and her pompom hair bounced. “Seriously, what did I ever do to you?” Rena lifted her chin. “You save my life, take my gratitude, then I show up asking for a little company and you act like I killed your Pokémon or something.” Jude narrowed their eyes. Rex let out a low growl and scooted closer to Jude, hackles rising as he looked at Rena. Rena lifted her hands, eyes wide. “Hey, not like I would. Just the vibe I’m getting.”

“It’s me.” Lark’s voice was quiet, barely there. They stared down at their hands, which they twisted in their lap. “You’re loud. And unfamiliar. And you saw me as an accessory before you saw me as a person.” Lark shrugged. “I think that’s most of it. If I wasn’t here, you’d probably still get along.”

Jude turned their head and stared at Lark, eyes wide. Was _that_ was Lark thought? That all of this was their fault? No. That wasn’t fair. Rena was grating. Jude wouldn’t have— but part of it _was_ Lark, wasn’t it? Known each other for what, almost two weeks now, and already overprotective. Reminded Jude of how they’d acted when they first got Rex.

“It’s not you,” said Jude. “Not _all_ you.” Jude looked back at Rena. “She’s just loud and kind of obnoxious.”

Rena grinned and spread her hands. “Well, _yeah_ , but people tend to like that about me.”

Jude pointed at themself. “Autistic.”

Rena frowned. “Why would that—” She blinked, paused, then, “Ooooh, actually that _does_ make a lot of sense. Not like, your personality or whatever, because I’m not about to play into stereotypes, y’know? But your whole hating loud noises and people in your face thing.” Another pause. “Man, though, for someone who hates it, you sure spend a lot of time in people’s faces and yelling.” Rena leaned back and set her hands on the tarp, tilting her head and humming at Jude. “Yeah, okay. So, I definitely need to apologize for some of how I acted, then. I was treating you like you were being a dick for no reason, but at least part of it was genuine discomfort on your part.” Rena looked at Lark. “And I have been talking over you. I’m sorry.”

Lark gave a tiny smile, lifting their head enough to look over the fire. “Thank you.”

Rena levelled a look at Jude. “ _But_ , you’ve also been pretty mean just to be mean. So, I’d appreciate if you apologized, too.”

Jude narrowed their eyes. Lark coughed and Jude looked down at them.

“Please?” Their voice was almost lost to the crackling of the fire.

Jude sighed and dropped their shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I’ve been a dick. Sorry.”

Rena beamed. “Great! Problem solved, yeah?” Jude shrugged. Sure, why the hell not? Life was already so god damn weird. Rena went to clap her hands together and stopped right before her palms touched. “Probably not a good idea, yeah?” Lark and Jude both shook their heads. “Okay, okay. So. Why don’t we share some facts about each other to break the ice?” She drummed her fingers against her knee and pursed her lips. “Ooh, I know. Why don’t we share star signs? You can learn a lot about a person by their star sign.”

Star signs? Astrology. _Great._ She was one of _those_ people.

“I’m a Scorpio,” said Rena, splaying a hand over her chest, “which means I’m resourceful, passionate, and a true friend.” She beamed. “What are you two?”

Jude sighed. “Taurus.” Which they only knew because it was one letter off from Tauros, and, as a child, they’d wanted to be a Pokémon. Still did, some days. “That mean anything?”

Rena smiled. “Totally! It means you’re hard-working, reliable, and practical. Which,” she gestured to the bags in the tent, behind Jude and Lark, or maybe she was gesturing to the tent, “I can totally see, all things considered.” Rena narrowed her eyes. “That also means your birthday was probably in May, right?”

“Thirteenth,” said Jude. “And yours is…?” They had no idea.

“My favourite number!” said Rena. “November 9th. I’m actually seventeen, though, because I wanted to finish high school before my journey.”

“Why?” asked Lark, cocking their head.

Rena shrugged. “Well, I’m not doing this to be a trainer, you know? I’m doing it because I want to be an anthropologist, so, for me, it made sense to finish high school before I struck off into the world. I figure I’ll do this for a couple of years, get my bearings, and then head off to university to study.” She looked to Lark. “So, what about you? What’s your sign?”

“Um.” Lark stared, eyes wide, at the tarp. Around them, the rain pelted away at the ground and the tarp. Rex stayed curled next to Jude, radiating heat, and Jude watched Lark, who shivered. Jude got up, ducked into the tent, and pulled out the blanket they kept for going inside their sleeping bag, if they needed extra layers in the warmer months (the insulated sleeping bag was back home, and Dad would send it to a city when winter hit). They draped it around Lark, who jumped, but they settled a moment later and sank into the blanket, wrapping it around themself.

“Better?” asked Jude, sitting down again.

Lark nodded. “Thank you.” They sighed. “I’m a Cancer.”

Rena’s eyebrows shot up, so it probably meant something, but Jude had no idea what.

“Wow, I don’t know if that suits you,” said Rena. She tapped her chin with one finger. “I guess there are a couple things, like being loyal, and you seem like you wanna help Jude where you can.” She shook her head. “But man, that’s really weird. Usually these are way more accurate. Were you supposed to be something else? Like, were you born a couple days late and missed the cut-off for Gemini?”

Lark shook their head. “Nope.” They stared at the ground. Jude frowned. What was going on? “I. Um. Was born in July, actually.”

“Huh,” said Rena. “Wow, I guess that means your birthday is coming up?”

“Twenty-second,” mumbled Lark, curling deeper into the blanket.

Rena grinned. “Hey, so we’re both gonna be seventeen, together!” She beamed. “That’ll be awesome, right?”

Lark shook their head. “I’m fifteen.”

Jude and Rena both stared.

Lark might as well have told them that they were secretly a Pokémon.

“What?” asked Rena. “You… you need to be sixteen to get a license.” She spoke slowly, looking back and forth between Lark and Jude. Jude couldn’t look away from Lark. How were they travelling at fifteen?

How?

_How?_

“Early licenses can be applied for by those who will turn sixteen within thirty days of the beginning of a League season,” said Lark. They sounded like they were reciting out of a textbook. “These license applications require a guarantor of high status, such as a gym leader or ranger, who displays high competency with multiple Pokémon. Should the license application be approved, it is the responsibility of the guarantor to ensure that the license holder acts within the rules and regulations of the Pokémon League. This guarantor is responsible for the license holder until the end of their first year as a trainer, no matter when the license holder turns sixteen years of age.”

“That’s out of a textbook,” mumbled Rena.

Lark sighed. “Pamphlet, actually.” They shrunk down. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” asked Rena.

Lark shrugged.

“You’re fine,” said Jude. “You have nothing to apologize for.” They stroked Rex’s fur beneath their fingers as they thought. “Early licenses are in the rules.” They remembered now, listening to Lark recite it out. They’d read those rules and wondered how many of those licenses were actually approved. Now, they knew.

Part of them wanted to scream. Not only had Lark not had to take any of the training, but they were out in the world earlier than everyone else. What the hell was Genevieve _thinking?_

“Yeah, you’re here, right? That means you’re more than capable of handling the challenge,” said Rena, grinning. She blew a stray curl from her face, though it didn’t move much. “And if you run into any trouble, you’ve got Jude!”

“You do,” agreed Jude, as much as it pained them to agree with Rena. “Whatever you need, I’ll help where I can.” Lark smiled and nodded. “Right. Now, let me make dinner for the both of us.”

“Oh,” started Lark. “You don’t have to—” They fell silent as Jude levelled them with a hard look. “Yes, please.” Jude nodded and headed into the tent to dig out food for the both of them.

Rena laughed. “Wow, can you bully me into letting you make me dinner?”

Jude bristled. “I’m not bullying them.”

“They’re not bullying me,” said Lark, at the same time.

Jude relaxed. They dragged out some of their food and returned to the fire. “You good with wraps?” Their tortillas were still good, and would be for a while, but the foods that went into them were going to turn soon. There was bacon, some shredded canned chicken, and even a package of cheese that was still good. Sooner or later, they’d have to switch over to all the dehydrated meals, if only for space, but it was nice to make real food while they still could.

Lark nodded and Rena huffed.

“How are you still making real _food_ after over a week on the road?” Rena pouted. “That’s not fair. All I’ve got is dehydrated meals and dried fruit.”

Jude shrugged. “Practice and smart planning.” Their gaze flitted to Rena’s cheeks, which darkened. Jude hoped it was because they were implying Rena had poor planning skills. They’d tried really hard on that one.

“I seriously can’t believe you’re out here in your own though,” said Rena, pulling out her own food. “I mean, you’re not, because of Jude, but still. It’s just wild to me that someone who’s fifteen could be on a journey.”

Lark tucked themself into a ball while Jude prepped the food to cook. They had some spices they liked for their own, but they didn’t know Lark’s palate yet.

“Until 2009, trainers started journeys at thirteen,” they said.

Rena hummed. “I mean, yeah, but that was before the Ultra Beasts. A lot of stuff changed after they attacked.”

Jude swallowed. Their face felt hot and they hands trembled slightly as they moved. “No,” they said. Rena and Lark both looked at them. Jude cleared their throat. “I don’t want to talk about the Ultra Beasts.” They spoke slowly, carefully, so their words couldn’t be misinterpreted. Maybe on a different day, when they hadn’t dealt with so much emotional bull crap, they wouldn’t be so wound up over this topic, but tonight? Tonight was not the time.

“Okay,” said Lark. “We can do that.” Lark pursed their lips, visible in the corner of Jude’s eye. The smell of campfire smoke wafted across Jude and they revelled in it as it mixed with beans, cheese, and canned chicken that Jude set in the cooking pan over the fire. Rena’s dehydrated meal was nothing to envy, and Jude dreaded the day they were down to just those stupid camp meals.

“Lemme tell you more about _astrology,_ ” said Rena, voice sing-song.

Jude snorted. “Aren’t you supposed to be a scientist or something?”

“Everyone has their superstitions, Jude,” said Rena. “Now, let’s talk _compatibility._ ”

It wasn’t the best subject to change to, but it was certainly better than the last. Jude shook their head and made a little extra food, so Rena wouldn’t be sad with her pitiful meal all night.

* * *

Things… went better, after that. The world lightened up, the sun came out, and Rena and Jude stopped arguing… _most_ of the time.

“Hot dogs are _not_ a sandwich!” shrieked Rena, scattering a group of Spearow in the trees. One of them shit on the ground next to her and she yelled again, leaping to the side with all the grace of a dying Rhyhorn.

Jude rolled their eyes. “Of course it is. It’s meat with condiments surrounded by bread. What about that isn’t a sandwich?” They tilted their head up toward the sky. Snowdrop and Rex were sprinting through the grass, barking and yipping as they ran back and forth. The sunlight filtered down through the trees and lit up the flowers and undergrowth. The scent of life was all around — Pokémon and their odours, the fragrance of blooming flowers, and the earthy scent of dirt and natural decay beneath their feet.

“It’s not a sandwich. It’s a _hot dog,_ ” said Rena, throwing her hands in the air.

“A hot dog is not its own food group,” said Jude, shrugging with their hands. They weren’t nearly as invested in this conversation as Rena, but this was too much fun to let go. Besides, she was wrong. And she needed to be corrected.

“May I make a suggestion?” asked Lark, raising their hand.

“Sure,” said Jude.

“Of course,” said Rena.

Lark tugged at their hair with one hand and drummed their fingers against their side with the other. “A hot dog is surrounded on, um, three sides, y’know? So it’s… it’s a taco.”

There was a long few seconds of silence as Jude tried to wrap their head around this new information.

“That… makes _perfect_ sense,” said Jude, a grin spreading across their face. “A hot dog is a taco. I like that!” They grinned at Lark, who ducked their head, cheeks burning. “What do you think about that, Rena?”

Rena groaned and hung her head. “I think you two share a _brain_ and neither one of you knows anything about food.”

“Says the girl eating MREs instead of home cooked food,” replied Jude. They shrugged. “I think Lark has the right idea here. Hot dogs are tacos, and you’re wrong, which is really what matters.”

Rena huffed. “Rude.”

“Uh-huh,” replied Jude. “Now, on to an even more important conversation.” Both of their companions looked up at them. Jude grinned. “Is cereal a soup?”

Rena groaned. “I don’t know you people.” She stalked ahead a few steps, but her natural pace wasn’t much faster than the pace Lark could manage in the wilds, so she didn’t end up out of ear shot. “Seriously. What is wrong with you?”

“Want the list?” asked Jude, flexing their hands so they didn’t bristle or snarl. It was a friendly joke. That was how friends worked. Breathe, Jude. Just breathe.

Rena hummed. “Mm, I’ll pass. I have better things to do than read your life story.” She spun and winked at Jude, which probably meant she was joking, but Jude still swallowed a snarky response.

Rena spun back around and marched further into the route, toward where the trees gave way to tall grace and open space, filled with rolling hills and scattered groves. They were just about out of the largest forest in Route 1, and Jude had no idea what would come next. Hills, because Windwick was built atop a ton of them, but other than that, they had no idea.

“Do you smell vanilla?” asked Lark, their voice so low that Jude thought they’d misheard. They looked over at Lark, brow furrowing. Of course they—

The smell of vanilla, and cinnamon, wafted into their nose. Jude pulled up short and looked around. What the hell?

“Rena?” called Jude. “You smell that?” She had stopped as well, and was staring past where the trees gave way to open land.

“Yeah. That’s so weird.” Rena dug her phone out of her shirt, because she kept it in her bra, which she claimed _all_ women worth their salt did (whatever that meant) and started tapping away at it.

“What are you doing?” asked Jude, crossing the short space between them.

“Checking to see if the map app can tell me what we’re coming up on,” said Rena. “It’s good for this stuff.”

Jude rolled their eyes and circled Rena, turning to face her once they were in front of her and spreading their hands. “ _Or_ we could just walk out of the trees and see what it is for ourselves.”

Rena puffed out her cheeks. “What’s wrong with an app?” She put one hand on her hip.

Jude folded their arms. “What’s wrong with just checking?”

“It could be dangerous!” said Rena, stomping one foot.

Jude raised an eyebrow. “You do remember how we _met_ , right?”

“That was different.”

“Explain.”

“I was doing scientific research,” said Rena, flicking her chin. What the hell did that gesture mean? Jude had no idea.

“Scientific research,” echoed Jude, tone as skeptical as they could manage. “Right. So what part was research, you nearly dying, or me trying to rescue you?”

Rena sputtered, waving her hands around in front of her. Her face flushed, starting at her ears, just barely visible under her skin tone. Jude took the opportunity to stride toward the source of the smell, beckoning to Lark with one hand to follow. They’d paused to let Lark catch up in a minute. First, they needed to find out where the hell that smell was coming from.

Past the break in the trees and into proper sunlight, Jude hung a left as the smell got stronger. With a whistle, Jude called Rex, and he sprinted off in front of them to source the smell for himself. If Jude got off path, he’d let them know.

The smell grew stronger, the sunlight bore down upon them, and the wind was cool and not too strong, providing welcome relief from the summer heat.

Jude ducked under a branch of a nearby tree, brushed aside some leaves from another tree, and saw where the smell was coming from.

A large farmhouse squatted in the open meadow, trees bunching up around its edges. Its large, wraparound porch held worn, cozy looking furniture, several birds and bird Pokémon perched along the eaves, and Rex sat at the foot of the porch steps, wagging his tail as an elderly woman scratched him behind the ears.

“Uh,” said Jude. “Hello?” The woman looked up and smiled at Jude.

“Hello there. Is he yours?” She inclined her head to Rex. Jude nodded. “He’s lovely. Very well-behaved.” Jude bit the inside of their cheek. Well, if she thought so.

“Is this your house?” asked Jude, then winced. Of course it was her house. Who else’s house would it be? But it was _weird_ for someone to live in the middle of a route. How did she get supplies? Wasn’t she ever in trouble from the wild Pokémon?

“It is,” said the woman, still smiling. Jude’s gazed darted between her mouth, to watch for expression changes, and Rex, who continued to wag his tail. Jude inclined their head and Rex got up, barked, and sprinted back to Jude, sitting down at their feet. He lolled his tongue and wagged his tail at Jude, then at the woman.

“Um,” said Jude. What were they even supposed to say?

“Jude!” Rena’s voice. “Why are you so _fast?_ ” It was the height, and the conditioning. But that was besides the point. Rustling behind Jude alerted them that Rena was there, and Jude glanced over their shoulder and saw Lark scurrying behind Rena.

Both of them pulled up short when they saw the house and the woman.

“Hello,” said the woman, pleasantly. “My name is Cora. Would you like to come inside for some tea?”

Jude narrowed their eyes and folded their arms.

The woman chuckled. “My wife and I run a bed and breakfast out of our home, that’s why we live here, in the first route. We ask all trainers to join us.” She gestured to the railing around the porch. The soft jingling Jude kept hearing finally made sense. There were dozens of soothe bells tied to the railings, all of them waving in the wind.

An old trainer superstition. Tie a soothe bell somewhere you received help, and you’d hold onto that luck for the rest of your journey. The sound of it would alert others that there was a safe haven whenever they came upon that spot.

“I could use some bed,” said Rena. “And some breakfast, for that matter.”

The woman, Cora, smiled. “I’m sure you all could. You must have been on the road for a while, by now. I won’t force you, but I’d be happy to make you something to eat.”

Jude sighed. “Sure.” Even if they weren’t certain, they’d just keep an eye on things. Besides, they didn’t know how much longer Lark would be okay sleeping in the woods. They were getting slower and stiffer by the day, and Jude didn’t know if they’d ask for a pause day with Rena around. This would be a good chance to get around that. “Why not?”

The three, plus their Pokémon, followed Cora up the steps and into her home.

“Jeanne,” she called, as they stepped into the house, “we’ve got visitors, dearie!”

Where Cora was tall, though still shorter than Jude, Jeanne was small. Where Cora was lean, Jeanne was plump. Cora’s long hair versus Jeanne’s short. They were contrasts in so many ways, but for the twin smiles on their faces.

“Oh, hello,” said Jeanne, smiling. “Why don’t you come stay for a bit?”

“Stay?” asked Jude.

“Just for a few days,” said Jeanne. “We’re here for the trainers, you see, and I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.”

Jude frowned. They wanted to trust this place, but people weren’t this nice. That wasn’t how the world worked. So why were these old women here? Why offer them a place to stay for a few nights?

They wanted to. They probably needed to. Lark needed a spot to rest. But…

“Please?” Lark’s voice was near their shoulder. They were staring at the floor. “Jude, I’m so tired.” Their voice was barely a whisper, and Jude doubted anyone else could hear it.

“Sure,” said Jude. “Why not?” It seemed they were saying that a lot today.

* * *

As it turned out, Cora and Jeanne had been working with trainers on Route 1 for ages, and their home was a full bed and breakfast, just as Cora had said. It had the feeling of an old home, though it couldn’t have been that old, and there were many bedrooms and bathrooms with many beds. The place smelled vaguely of wood and strongly of whatever Jeanne was cooking or baking at a given moment. The furnishings were warm tones of wood, soft blues and greens in fabric, and a hint of golden-yellow that seemed to give everything a warm glow.

Oversized furniture decorated every room, while pictures of trainers that had passed through the home adorned every surface and wall, alongside pictures of Cora and Jeanne’s own life.

“My sister was here,” said Lark, when the trio of trainers came across a picture of Genevieve at sixteen, beaming at the camera and covered in bandaids. Lark was at her feet, eating a cookie. “She never told me.”

“Huh,” said Jude. A lot of the younger Leaguers were there, which Jude only knew for the name plates on the pictures. Except Nolan. He still looked the same, with his dreadlocks there were partially dyed, his too-big smile, and his stupid colour scheme that matched his type speciality. At his side in the picture was a Tepig. It seemed he’d always loved fire-types.

They were each given different rooms, asked what food they wanted, and regaled with stories of the past. Cora and Jeanne had been together for years, always helping trainers, and when Jude spoke up about theirs and Lark’s pronouns, Cora told them that she, herself, was transgender, and always happy to find fellow community members.

Jude decided they liked Cora, right about then.

They spent a couple of days recovering, and Lark seemed to get worse before they got better, if they were getting better at all. Rena kept getting curious, but Jude distracted her with studying the Pokémon around the house. Scientists, it turned out, were an easily distracted bunch.

Still, Jude worried, and they found themself losing sleep over it, often ending up on the porch in the early morning, watching the sun rise.

It was one of those mornings, while Jude was deep in thought, that Cora found them.

“Why do you do this?” asked Jude, leaning forward on the railing of the porch. “Live in the route, in a house, with no one around. Why do you do it?” They turned their head as Cora approached. She smiled at them, and Jude dropped their gaze to her shoulders, then turned back toward the route. Trees sprawled across rolling hills, vision in most directions except the one they’d come.

“It feels right,” said Cora. She took a spot next to Jude, far enough that they didn’t touch, close enough that they could, and stared in the same direction. Jude kept her in their peripherals. “We spent many years helping people after they were injured. It… hurt me, to know that so many trainers were uneducated. Jeanne and I, when we retired, we thought it was important to keep trying to help. So,” she gestured broadly to the space with one hand, “we built a house here, in route one, where we could help all the unexperienced trainers and, perhaps, lessen the harm they faced due to ignorance.”

Jude shook their head. “Making trainers more educated doesn’t stop them from being idiots.” The garbage on the routes, the social media posts that had haunted Jude for years, all the bullshit bragging about how _they_ would have handled the Ultra Beasts, as if any of them would still be alive if they faced down the beasts. As if they wouldn’t have ended up like everyone else.

“No, but it can’t hurt,” said Cora. She hummed, grey hair blowing in the wind. “The way I see it, Jude, is that it certainly can’t make things worse. I was bothered by so much of trainer culture and so I sought out to change it where I could. I like to think I’ve done some good.”

Jude shrugged. “Yeah, but you can’t change the structure, so what’s the point? The League, the culture, none of it will ever change. Why bother fighting it? Why not just cut your ties?”

“I suppose,” said Cora, voice soft, “that I’m simply a bleeding heart. We can’t change the system all at once, no, but if I can help even one trainer, change one mind, isn’t that enough? Sometimes it’s not about changing everyone, sometimes it’s about finding the changes you can make and hoping they’ll spread out on their own.”

“Seems like a lot of work for nothing guaranteed,” said Jude.

“Perhaps,” agreed Cora.

“And besides,” said Jude, pushing off the railing. “S’not like most trainers will do anything about it. People in this business aren’t inherently selfless or heroes or whatever. They’re jerks. They’re selfish idiots who wouldn’t know how to sacrifice for others if it was the only choice they had.”

Cora hummed. “You hold a lot of anger toward the League.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Jude. “And no one’s taking that from me.” They stuffed their hands in their pockets and walked back into the house.

* * *

Jude looked up when the door to the kitchen swung open and Lark shuffled into the space. They were wrapped in an oversized sweater and a pair of sweatpants that had been acting as their only non-trail clothes. Bleary-eyed and hunched over, Lark dragged themself across the floor and collapsed into the chair perpendicular to Jude, on their right. They dropped their head onto folded arms on the table and let out a quiet groan.

“Still sore?” asked Jude. Lark let out a quiet whimper. Jeanne, who was at the stove, looked up at the noise and Jude saw her frowning.

“You’ve been awfully sore since you got here,” said Jeanne. “Is this a common problem?”

Lark made another quiet noise, noncommittal, and Jude frowned. They tore at the sandwich Jeanne had made them, stuffing bits into the corners of their mouth while they watched the tension ooze out of Lark as they sagged deeper into the table.

Somewhere outside, Rena was helping Cora care for the Pokémon that Cora and Jeanne owned. Apparently, there were plenty of interesting anthropological things to learn about domestic Pokémon in such a “unique space”. Jude hadn’t understood most of it, though they’d mostly been listening. It was only polite.

Lark sighed. “Chronic.” Their voice was muffled by their arms, and it was a mumble.

“Oh dear,” said Jeanne. She turned off the stove and stepped away from the kettle. “Far be it from me to pry, but if you’re willing to elaborate, I might be able to help. I was a nurse, after all.”

Lark turned their head to the side, revealing a pale complexion and a sheen of sweat across their skin. “Fibromyalgia?” They said it as a question, tone of the certainty from when they’d told Jude to be found.

“Ah,” said Jeanne. “I’ve seen many with that condition in my time, though few trainers. You must be very driven.”

“Yeah, I-I guess.”

Jeanne hummed. “I have a few suggestions, but I wouldn’t want to overstep, and I wouldn’t want to presume you haven’t tried them already.”

“I… I’d like that,” said Lark, slowly. “Please.”

“All right,” said Jeanne. “We’ll handle that as soon as we can, then.”

In the distance, a door burst open, footsteps pounded. Then, a minute later, Rena burst into the kitchen.

“Cora says we can use her Tauros for part of our journey!” she shouted, throwing her arms in the air. Lark and Jude both winced, Jude bringing their hands over their ears. Rena winced. “Oops, sorry.”

Jeanne slipped over to Lark and offered an arm. “Why don’t we talk, dearie?”

With a quiet hum, Lark got to their feet, leaning on Jeanne, and followed her out of the room.

“Jude. _Jude_. You should see the way these Pokémon interact with the wild ones. It’s just _fascinating,_ ” said Rena, dropping into Lark’s seat. Jude sighed, propped their cheek in one hand, and watched Rena’s hair. It was polite to listen, and besides, maybe they’d learn something.

* * *

Jeanne and Cora’s Tauros were big, broad creatures that allowed Jude, Rena, and Lark to ride them for two days before they turned back and headed home. Still, they’d covered more territory in those two days than they had in almost a week on their feet, and the last chunk of the route loomed ahead, smaller and less intense than before. Lark seemed well rested, and Jude kept the painkillers tucked in a safe, easily accessed part of both of their bags, grateful for Jeanne and Cora’s expertise where Jude’s own knowledge had failed. They needed to do more research. They needed to get on top of things, once they reached Windwick.

But first, there was the rest of their journey.

If Lark was going to challenge the gym, they needed to keep growing stronger, so Jude helped and watched while Snowdrop and Candy battled with the handful of Pokémon that poked their heads out of the bushes. They were getting good at it — Lark and their Pokémon — and Lark only panicked a little when their Pokémon were hit now.

What was it Dad had always said? The best teacher was experience? Something to that effect. Jude figured, in this case, that it meant battling a person, rather than a wild Pokémon.

A few days into the last leg of their journey, Jude and Lark found themselves standing across from each other, both prepared to battle, while Rena sat on a log off to the side to referee. Beeps floated near her, holding a berry and munching it occasionally.

“Are you sure this is fair?” asked Rena. “Lark’s got two Pokémon and you only have one.”

Jude shrugged and stretched their arms above their head, leaning first to one side, then the other. Rex bounced around at their feet, tongue lolling. The sun was warm against their skin, and the breeze brought the scent of grass and flowers and a little bit of sap.

“We’ve fought the same number of Pokémon,” said Jude, running the numbers in their head. “Seems fair to me.” Two Pokémon who battled half as many Pokémon as Rex probably weren’t as strong, but Rex would exhaust over the course of the fight, giving Lark an edge at the end. It evened out, in their mind. Time to find out how it would work in practice.

“All right,” said Rena. “You good, Lark?”

Lark nodded. Candy and Snowdrop both watched from behind them.

“Okay, we’re good then,” said Rena. She leaned forward on the log. “First one to have no more Pokémon capable of battling will lose. Ready?” Lark and Jude both tensed. “Begin!”

“Rex,” called Jude. He bounced forward, little flames dancing in his mouth.

“Candy,” said Lark, holding their hands in loose fists near their mouth. They were hunched in on themself, frowning with pursed lips and a furrowed brow.

How would a gym leader approach this situation? Jude didn’t know. They were supposed to be smart, and good, right? So, strategy. Strategy was easy.

“Start with Howl, then go into Iron Tail,” said Jude, folding their arms. Rex barked and launched himself forward, throwing back his head to let out a piercing howl that shook the trees. Jude winced, one eye half closing and their hands trembling against their arms. Strong. Be strong.

Lark clapped their hands over their ears and let out a yelp. They took a step back and Rex launched himself at Candy. He flipped into the air, tail glowing, and spun around, end over end, coming down hard on Candy. Candy cried out and went rolling, bumping into Lark’s legs.

“Oh no,” said Lark. “Um…”

Rex landed on his feet and waited for Jude’s next call-out. Jude waited for Lark. This wasn’t a battle with big stakes, or a battle where they were fighting for something. This was for Lark. They could wait. They could let Lark get their bearings. First, get good, then, get fast. That was how learning worked.

“Um…,” said Lark, staring from Candy, who shook herself off, to Jude. “I—I don’t…”

Right. Lark hadn’t battled Jude properly before (not that Jude had much experience battling, either). They’d panicked, last time. They’d only been fighting wild Pokémon ever since.

That was easier. Pokémon weren’t as smart at people, in most ways, so they couldn’t keep up with human strategy.

“Rex is faster than Candy,” said Jude. “Can you slow him down or use a move that’s hard to dodge?”

Lark nodded. “Right, right. Okay. Okay.” They took a deep breath. “Candy, try using Cotton Spore.”

Candy leapt forward and spat dozens of small, pale green spores that floated toward Rex.

“Torch ‘em,” said Jude. Rex barked and spat fire at the spores, dancing around them like he’d been at it for months, instead of only a few short weeks. Spore after spore fell, turned crisp and then to ashes.

“Drat,” said Lark, as the last spores died. “Wait!” They perked. “Thunder Wave. That’s hard to dodge. Candy, use that!”

Candy baa’d and electricity arced off her body in a wide circle. _Crap._

Rex didn’t stand a chance. Even as he jumped, Jude knew he wasn’t jumping high enough. He tumbled back to the ground as the electricity caught him by the legs and went rolling across the dirt. Jude held their breath. They had the means to heal him. It was fine. It was _fine._ Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

With gritted teeth, Rex pushed himself upright. Electricity crackled across his fur and his movements were slow and jerky.

“You shouldn’t have stopped,” called Rena. “When you paralyze an opponent, it’s a great time to get more attacks in. This isn’t some turn-based RPG, you don’t need to take turns.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. A game analogy? Why a game analogy?

Lark nodded. “O-okay.” They frowned. “But is that fair? I-I mean, if someone goes too fast, then your opponent can’t, you know, um, fight back.”

“That’s their problem,” said Jude. Trainers, as far as Jude knew, were supposed to be prepared for that. Jude hadn’t seen a lot of battles, but they were a lot more rapid fire than this. Thinking fast, strategizing on the fly, they were both parts of being a trainer. If Lark wanted to be one, they needed to be ready, and to be safe.

Jude wasn’t going to let trainer culture eat Lark alive.

“You have to be quick on a match,” said Rena, crossing one leg over the other. Beeps hovered above her, berry gone. Rena dug another one out of her bag and tossed it up to him. “You’ve watched League members fight, yeah? New trainers aren’t as fast, but you’ll have to get there if you wanna take it on.”

Jude looked to Rex. He shook himself, the telltale sparks of paralysis arcing across his fur, but he seemed okay, otherwise.

“O-okay,” said Lark, nodding, “I think I get it.” They turned back to Jude. Candy, Jude, and Rex all watched them. Lark jumped. “Um.”

“Ember,” said Jude, without preamble.

Rex barked out flame after flame, balls of them rolling together into bigger spots. Lark yelped.

“Candy!” they called. Candy darted out of the way, but Rex kept going and some hit home, sending Candy sprawling.

“Iron Tail,” said Jude, before Candy could recover.

“Oh no,” said Lark. “Candy watch out!”

Candy had barely gotten to her feet before Rex’s tail slammed into her thick, wool-covered side. She went rolling and Rex stumbled, electricity wracking his body.

Jude bit the inside of their cheek. Rex’s paralysis wasn’t letting up. Damn.

“Come on, Lark, don’t give up! She can keep fighting,” called Rena from the side.

“Rex? You okay?” called Jude. He got to his feet, fire burning from his mouth. “All right. Let’s keep it up.” _Don_ _’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic._ This battle was for Lark, but it was also for Jude. They needed to practice. They needed to stop freaking out.

“Candy, use Thunder Shock!” Lark threw out one arm while speaking, then winced and pulled it close. Candy launched a flash of electricity at Rex and it struck him, head on. He yelped and went rolling, skidding to a stop with his claws digging into the dirt.

“Ember, then run at Candy and Bite her,” said Jude, clenching their hands at their sides.

Rex spat fire at Candy, using it as cover as he ran for Candy. He stumbled, tripped, but kept going, and without Lark to call out, Candy froze. Rex’s teeth glowed, Candy fell, and she was out.

“Oh no, Candy,” said Lark, rushing forward. “Will she be okay?”

Jude took a deep breath and shoved their hands in their pockets to hide the trembling. “Yup. Should be fine. We just need to get her some medicine and let her rest.”

Lark nodded.

“You good to fight with Snowdrop, too?” asked Jude.

Again, Lark nodded. They returned Candy to her Pokéball, got back in position, and called Snowdrop forward from where she sat.

“Let’s go, Snowdrop.”

Jude couldn’t help but smile. “Ready, Rex?” Electricity laced against his fur, but he nodded, determination, or something like in, on his face. “Game on.” They looked to Lark, whose face was scrunched in what Jude presumed was determination, as well.

“Freeze-Dry!” called Lark.

Starting strong.

“Dodge it, Rex,” called Jude.

The blast of white and blue energy erupted from Snowdrop’s mouth as she leapt into the air. Rex dove to the side but didn’t quite get out of the way. Ice encased the back half of his tail. His eyes glowed with fire and so did his mouth and it melted.

“Use Ember to get in close.” Jude flexed their hands.

Rex’s mouth glowed with fire, but it wasn’t _Ember_ , it was something else entirely. He leapt forward, a flame arching out of him, and he arched with it, rolling himself into a ball and encasing himself in fire. The flaming wheel of Rex whipped toward Snowdrop and slammed into her side once, spun around and hit her twice, and then spun one last time and slammed her again. Snowdrop collapsed. Rex unrolled and flopped into the dirt, electricity crackling.

It was over.

_Holy shit._

“Flame Wheel,” breathed Jude. He was getting stronger by the day and had figured out a move without their help. _Wow._ “Are you okay?” they said, rushing over to him. Rex gave a little bark and lolled his tongue. Jude hugged him close. “You did so good.”

“Rex is really strong,” said Lark, and Jude looked up to see Lark picking up Snowdrop, who cooed softly. “A-and I battled without freezing. That’s good, right?”

“That’s awesome,” said Jude.

Lark frowned. “I still lost.”

“So?” asked Rena. “You both did awesome. That was a killer battle.” She hopped to her feet. “C’mon, let’s get everyone healed up and keep going. We gotta get to Windwick!”

Jude smiled and got to their feet, still cradling Rex.

Lark had survived one battle. Now, they just had to survive a thousand or so more.

* * *

The Pokémon noticed before the trio of trainers did. Beeps dropped out of the air with a yelp and Rena jolted forward, catching him and stumbling until she landed on one knee in the dirt. Rex and Snowdrop both stopped dead in the middle of the path, fur raising and low growls brewing in their throats.

Jude stopped, Lark stopping next to them.

“What is it?” asked Jude, gaze darting back and forth on the path ahead of them. Open space, but they were at the bottom of a hill, with half a dozen arching high around them. A predator? Rex and Snowdrop both backed up until their tails, fur raised to puff them up, brushed Jude and Lark’s legs. “What do see, Rex?”

Nothing Jude could see in the bushes. Then… _there._

From the trees that curled against the base of the hill came a stumbling blue and black quadruped. It took Jude a second to recognize the Pokémon through the blood, the stomach wound, and the matted fur.

A Luxray.

The Luxray collapsed against the side of the path, her torn stomach heaving as she struggled to breathe.

“Oh Arceus,” breathed Rena, from where she kneeled. “Look at her.”

Jude stumbled forward, ears ringing and vision focusing, centering, zeroing in on the Luxray. They dropped to their knees near her head, hands hovering above the wound.

Multiple lacerations, clean slices through the skin. Too deep to patch for transportation, too much blood loss to stabilize. The claws — they had to be claws, by the look — had gone through muscle and harmed delicate internal organs.

She was dying. And when Jude look at her face, at her eyes, they knew she knew it too.

“Is she…” Lark stopped.

“Dying,” said Jude. Was their tone flat? They couldn’t tell. Probably.

“We have to call a ranger,” said Rena. Rustling of fabric. “We have to get someone out here.”

“There’s no point,” said Jude. They reached out and stroked their fingers through the crest of fur atop the Luxray’s head. She let out a quiet noise, maybe a whine, maybe a whimper.

“Of course there’s a point,” said Rena. “Don’t you see this? We can’t fix this, but they can! We can—we can get a ranger out here, and they’ll transport her out. And they can fix her in the city.” Rena stared at Jude. “Right?”

“My dad’s a veterinarian,” said Jude. They stroked their fingers through the crest again and again, before soothing their fingertips down her muzzle. Her nose was dry and hot, the breaths shallow and wet when she huffed them out in an irregular rhythm. “I’ve seen this before.” Jude took a breath. “I know what death looks like.”

“That’s not fair,” whispered Lark, their voice breaking halfway through. “That’s not _fair_. She’s so powerful a-and strong, she, she should be out running or-or fighting, or playing. She shouldn’t—” Lark broke off with a broken sob. Jude blinked back tears but didn’t turn back. They feared if they looked away from her for a moment, she’d be gone.

“Is this the same thing as when the Pokémon attacked me?” asked Rena. “Could it be?”

Jude shook their head. “I don’t think so.” They stared at the wounds a little longer. Maybe if they stared long enough, they’d become desensitized to them. Behind Jude, Rex and Snowdrop whimpered and growled intermittently. “Wild Pokémon fight for territory all the time. This isn’t a normal place for a Luxray to be, she must have migrated for some reason and ended up crossing paths with something territorial.”

“Meaning?” asked Rena, voice tight.

“Meaning this is just part of life,” said Jude. They slid their hand down the side of the Luxray’s face and cupped it. “And we can’t change it.” Their voice was soft, and maybe apologetic.

“I hate it,” whispered Lark, voice full of tears. “I _hate_ it.”

“You and me both,” said Jude, reaching up with their free hand to wipe at their tears.

They sat with the Luxray in silence for a few minutes, stroking her fur and trying to exude comfort while she drew her last breaths. When, at last, she went still and her eyes fogged over, Jude waited a moment longer, just to be sure, then got to their feet.

“Call a ranger,” said Jude, turning to face Lark and Rena. Lark was curled up, arms around their knees, sitting at the base of a tree, and Rena was leaned against a different one, hugging herself.

“Why?” asked Rena. “She’s already dead.”

“It’ll take up to a week for her body to decompose into ash,” said Jude. “We need a ranger to come carry her remains away, so that she doesn’t upset the local ecosystem.”

“How are you so calm about this?” asked Rena. Jude couldn’t place the tone, but it sounded _off_. Wrong. “Do you even have feelings?”

Jude bristled. “Yeah, I have fucking feelings,” snapped Jude. They dug out their phone and swiped open the ranger app, dropping a marker on the map where they currently stood. An alert popped up and said a ranger would be there in a few hours. “I just know when shit is pointless.”

“So you just don’t feel anything if you don’t want to?” asked Rena. The tone was easier now, with the words. Anger. Disgust, maybe. But Jude couldn’t keep track over their own rage that burned through them. Tight chest, clenched fists, gritted teeth. _Fuck you._

“Sure, let’s misinterpret my words. That’s definitely what I meant.” Sarcasm. Not their strong suit, but who fucking cared at this point? They weren’t heartless. They weren’t emotionless. And they sure as hell did care about people and death and Pokémon and _everything._ But people said what they said and nothing would change that.

“Hey.” Rena, snapping. “If that’s not what you meant, then why say it like that?”

“Um,” said Lark. Jude looked to them. Lark was pointing. Jude followed where they were pointing, turned around, and saw a Shinx, a little smaller than it should have been, approaching the body of the Luxray. Jude’s entire body _ached_ at the sight. _Oh no._ The Shinx let out a pitiful cry and nudged at the body. Then let out another.

“You don’t—” Rena stopped. There were tears in her eyes when Jude looked. “You don’t think that’s—”

“Her cub,” said Jude, softly. “Yeah, probably.” Slowly, Jude approached the cub, crouching down and holding out one hand. “Hey,” they said, voice low and soft, “I won’t hurt you.”

The cub stared at Jude, shoulders hunched low and chin near the ground. Her tuft was small, so she was a girl. And there was a patch on her cheek where she’d brushed the viscera of her mother. Jude kept themself calm, trying to radiate that energy, or whatever it was Dad always tried to do when he approached scared Pokémon.

Bit by bit, she came forward, until her muzzle butted up against Jude’s palm. Jude turned their hand toward the Shinx until she nuzzled it with her forehead.

“Jude?” Lark’s voice was tiny in the space. “What are we gonna do?”

Jude scratched the Shinx’s head as she crept closer and closer to Jude. She got close enough for Jude to wrap an arm under her. The Shinx came, still nuzzling their hands. It must have been the scent of her mother on them. She was latching onto Jude, just like so many babies did when they first imprinted on their parents.

“How old is she?” asked Rena.

“A year, give or take,” said Jude. A few weeks in either direction, maybe a couple of months, at most. Just about the age when Pokémon were chosen for training if they were raised in nurseries. They stood, slowly, the Shinx wrapped in their arms. “Remember when I said I’d know I had my second Pokémon when I found them?” asked Jude. They turned and faced Lark and Rena, who were both staring at Jude.

Jude looked down at the Shinx, curled peacefully in their arms, still nuzzling their hands, still crying out at random intervals, looking for a mother she smelled but couldn’t find. Jude grimaced.

“I do,” whispered Lark.

Jude shrugged. “Found her.” Shifting the Shinx to one arm, they pulled a collapsed Pokéball from their belt, expanded it, and taped the button against the Shinx’s forehead. She cooed, flashed red, and then vanished into the ball. The button flickered once, twice, and on the third, it clicked, sealing the Shinx and her fate with Jude.

“Come on,” said Jude, tucking the ball into their belt. “Let’s get going.”

“What about the Shinx?” asked Rena. “Shouldn’t she get to see her mom again?”

Jude hesitated. “No, I don’t think so,” they said, after a moment. “She saw what she needed to see. Anything else would be cruel. Let’s go.” They turned and started down the path, avoiding the Luxray as they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for animal death and violence, as well as blood and injury.
> 
> I am grateful for every comment, big or small, so if you are up to leaving one, I'd be super appreciative! Thank you so much!
> 
> **Chapter Fact**  
>  Pokémon bodies, unlike all other organic beings, deteriorate after death at a rapidly increased rate. Depending on the size of the creature, a deceased Pokémon’s body can deteriorate entirely — bones included — into nothing anywhere from 24 hours after death to seven days after death. Due to this, Pokémon burials are often symbolic, rather than literal. This rapid decay also causes problems in Pokémon biology studies, as preservatives must be applied immediately after death to prevent rapid decay. Due to this, it is still unclear why Pokémon bodies decay like this, though it is highly suspected to be related to their elemental abilities and methods of evolution. But until science finds a better way to study deceased Pokémon, their biology, in this way, will remain a mystery.


	10. The City of Wind and Wicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude, Lark, and Rena arrive in Windwick. It's easy in some ways, hard in others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? I got nothing. Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Originally, there was more to this chapter, but I cut it because it was already 9k at this point. The rest of that content got blended in with chapter eleven.
> 
> tw for misgendering, ableism, and anxiety attacks from the inside, gender dysphoria

By Jude’s phone, it was afternoon on the twenty of July when they finally arrived in Windwick, not long behind every other trainer who’d set out to the city weeks prior.

It appeared in flashes as Jude, Lark, and Rena crested the rolling hills approaching the city. First, the windmills; then, the tallest buildings; then, everything else in pieces — the lights, the architecture, the nature that popped up between buildings in flashes of green deeper than the rollings hills and natural greenery that surrounded the city on all sides.

In a somber line, the trio approached Windwick.

It looked sort of like a storybook, or maybe one of those cottage towns that massive train sets on tables circled; that was, if the storybook or cottage town had been super-sized, the buildings stacked on top of each other and semi-modern architecture loomed like the two-dimensional backdrops of those old western movies that Dad loved.

While the three of them were quiet, the city wasn’t, and the noise of Windwick whipped passed them, dancing in the summer wind.

Metaphors and similes. Jude was getting better at those. They read a lot of examples of them in their books as they waited for Lark and Rena to wake up in the morning. Lark, due to pain; Rena, due to sleeping in. Not laziness — laziness was, in their opinion, something sold by corporations to make people feel bad about needing sleep — but something else. Maybe a delayed sleep schedule.

The noise wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in Dawnmere. It was quieter, almost muffled. Banners hung between buildings and over streets that burst from the ground beneath Jude’s feet.

The buildings grew more frequent with each step, shops and homes and smells and sounds pulling them deeper into the city. Cinnamon from a bakery, bagels from a different sort of bakery, a scent that betrayed the recent rain and the flowers and trees that bloomed in controlled clusters on grass that lined both sides of both sidewalks.

“What do we do now?” asked Lark, staring up at Jude. None of them had their Pokémon out, not after this morning’s battle. A run in with a pair of Staravia had left the three scrambling to protect their Pokémon, but it hadn’t stopped the battle. Rex was conscious, but had a bad cut on one leg that Jude had bandaged. Beeps was unconscious, having been thrown out of the sky. Candy and Snowdrop were both doing better, but Lark had pulled them in, just to be safe.

“Find a Pokémon Centre,” said Jude. “They can heal our teams and we can check in. Get some rooms for our stay, here.”

Lark nodded.

Rena stretched her arms over her head. “I’m gonna check out the Centre to the east.” Her had her phone in one hand. “I’ll text if they’ve got rooms. You two head straight and see if that Centre has rooms?” Jude nodded.

Splitting up made sense, and it _would_ be nice to get some peace and quiet. Arceus, Jude missed the quiet. Sure, the mornings before Lark and Rena awoke were quiet, but it was a different sort. A lonely sort. It bothered Jude. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d felt _lonely._ They’d always preferred to be alone.

Weird.

“Sure,” said Jude. They glanced over and saw Lark suppress a yawn. “See you soon.”

“Aye aye,” said Rena, winking and flashing a peace sign before disappearing down another street.

Lark’s shoulders drooped once Rena vanished. Their head fell forward, hair hanging in their face, and their arms hung limp at their sides.

“You okay?” asked Jude.

Lark looked up, Jude looked over their shoulder. Lark winced.

“I feel bad but… I’m really glad to get a break from her,” whispered Lark.

Jude snorted. “I feel the exact same way. She’s… okay. But I do not envy her Pokémon.”

Lark giggled. “I just like the quiet.”

“Me too,” said Jude. “C’mon, let’s find that Pokémon Centre.” The two turned back down the street, following the noise as more people milled around them — trainers and civilians walking to and from wherever it was they were coming or going. More than one squinted at Lark and Lark scooted closer to Jude. Close enough that when Jude moved their arms too much, they bumped into Lark’s.

Jude didn’t pull away. Neither did Lark.

They’d just crossed a street, walk sign flashing, when a sharp voice came from behind them.

“Lark Harrow,” called a voice. “Lark Harrow.” Jude turned and saw a reporter rushing up to Lark, who had ended up a few steps behind Jude after they’d crossed the street. “Lark Harrow, hi, Tori Hathaway with Gale Force News. Lark, you’ve arrived behind many of the other trainers on route and without the spectacle many expected. How are you feeling?” The woman, with her severe ponytail and sharp eyes, shoved a microphone in Lark’s face.

Lark stepped back, hands up. They moved closer to the building, away from both Jude and the reporter. “Um.”

The reporter advanced. “You also missed the most recent gym lottery, so you’ll be spending the week waiting, what are your plans for this week?”

Lark swallowed visibly. “Um…”

The reporter took another step forward. “Your birthday is the day after tomorrow. How does it feel, being the youngest member of the Pokémon League, this year, and the only fifteen year old allowed to have a license in the last several?” She waved the mic at Lark. “Do you think your fellow trainers resent you for your early start?” Another step. Lark retreated. “Or for your imported starter Pokémon?” Another step forward, another step back. Lark almost had their back pressed to the bricks. “Or for the many other advantages they claim you have due to your sister’s status as Altera’s greatest Champion in recent history?”

“Um.”

That was enough. Jude stalked forward and put a hand on Lark’s shoulder, gently pulling them away from the reporter. The reporter’s gaze came up and her eyes went wide as she had to keep looking _up_ to look at Jude’s face. Jude narrowed their eyes, squared their shoulders, and dropped their voice as low as it went.

“We’ve been on the road for three weeks,” said Jude, tone flat. “Lark, we should head to the Pokémon Centre, don’t you think?” Lark nodded and scooted closer to Jude’s side.

“That sounds good,” they said, voice low.

Jude’s mouth twitched as the reporter and cameraman kept staring. “Good. Goodbye.” They turned, gently guiding Lark with them, and headed back to the middle of the sidewalk and down the street, toward the Pokémon Centre and away from the reporter.

“Who are you?” called the reporter. “Are you Lark’s travelling companion?” Jude raised their free arm and flipped off the reporter as they walked away.

A few people watched, but Jude’s blood pounded in their hands and their head, and they simply levelled the same gaze at them that they’d levelled at the reporter. People turned away, hurrying about their day.

They’d gone almost a block before Lark spoke.

“Thank you,” they said, curling in on themself. Jude was still holding their shoulder. They let go, arm falling to their side. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“That reporter was a dick,” said Jude, without thinking. Was that too harsh? “I thought you’d be used to them, though.” Again, Jude winced. Again, no thought behind their words. Shit.

Lark shrugged. “I’ve never really talked to reporters alone. I was always with Gen or with Holland. They helped.”

Holland. Rena had mentioned Holland. Who was Holland?

“Who is Holland?” What had Rena said? Something about being family?

“Gen’s fiancé,” said Lark. “They’ve been together since the two of them were trainers. Holland is,” Lark smiled, “they’re really great.”

Genevieve was surrounded by non-binary people. _Cool._ Probably bred tolerance. Too bad it hadn’t spread to any other part of her. Funny, how some people could be tolerant in one way but not in others.

Or, it would have been funny if it weren’t so infuriating. Maybe. Possibly. Jude had a feeling they’d still want to punch her in her stupid symmetrical face. Maybe ruin her movie star looks. Arceus, she was probably one of those people who posted selfies on PokeSnap with #wokeuplikethis.

There was a difference between taking pride in how you looked and lying between your teeth for fake internet points.

“That’s good,” said Jude. At least Lark had someone to keep them company when they were stuck with Genevieve. “Look, Pokémon Centre,” said Jude, pointing. It was still a few blocks away, but it was visible now, and so was the crowd of trainers milling about its entrance. Jude grimaced. Not a lot of trainers, objectively, but even a few was too many.

Stupid gym city.

“Oh good,” said Lark, sighing. “I’m… very tired.”

“We’ll get you a place to rest,” said Jude. The edges of their vision were fuzzy, the light of the afternoon and the buildings blown out and over-saturating the world, throwing every colour into focus and driving up the contrast until it looked like a deep-fried photo edit. Or maybe those art prints that their art teacher back in Furrowbury was always telling Jude were “more artistic” than their charcoal sketches.

Jude grabbed their sunglasses from where they hung in their shirt and shoved them on with one hand, fingers trembling as they did and almost stabbing themself in the eye.

The dimmed lights and colours helped, everything filtered through a dark grey overlay. Jude let out a quiet sigh. At least that was _one_ sense that was better.

It didn’t help the noise. The sharp laughter of children as they ran by. The cries of overhead bird Pokémon. The bark of a Zigzagoon. The growl of an overprotective Purrloin. The rush of air and _whoosh_ whenever a car raced by, silent but for the wind it kicked up.

And it didn’t help with the smells, either. The bakery smells now competed with fast food, with fried burgers and chicken and potatoes. With the tinge of garbage as they passed an alleyway. With the scent of perfumes and body sprays as pockets of trainers and tourists and citizens passed them by with each block.

“Are you okay?” asked Lark.

It would be polite to say yes. It would be polite to say they were fine.

“No,” said Jude, ducking their head. Too tall to really hide. Too tall to get their gaze off the world. But tall enough to part crowds. Big enough to have people going around them. “Not really.”

“It’ll be okay,” said Lark. “We’ll be inside, soon. We can find a place where we can both relax.”

The words were placation. Jude had heard them enough from their counsellor and their dad to know that. Yet, they soothed Jude all the same. Their shoulders lowered from where they’d been bunched high. And while everything was still too intense, it felt easier to endure. Not because it _was_ easier, but because they had more drive.

Rest. They could rest soon.

And maybe scream. Screaming would be nice. Punch something.

“Right,” muttered Jude. What was it Dad called when they did this? Time to put on their game face. Jude tried to focus on something, anything, other than the crowd they and Lark approached. The way the light caught Lark’s hair. The way their shoulder brushed Jude’s arm. That worked. Yeah.

The crowd didn’t part, not really, but the people who looked and saw Jude bowed out of the way. Normally, Jude might have felt bad. Mostly, they just were glad for the advantage. They kept Lark close, nudging them toward the Centre. The crowd, contrary to Jude’s thoughts, weren’t waiting to see the nurse. Instead, they were crowded around a display screen built into the glass showing a music video.

“Oh,” said Lark, voice small. “Aella’s new video must be premiering. I’ll watch it later.” Aella? Oh, right. Gym leader. The pop star.

Not really Jude’s sort of music.

The Pokémon Centre had clusters of trainers standing around and chatting, the murmur of voices lifting and lowering from roars and murmurs. Kind of like waves of noise, or waves at the beach. Oceans made better music.

“Hey guys!” Jude twitched and looked over their shoulder as Rena pushed into the Pokémon Centre. “Wow, nice place.” She whistled and Jude twitched again. Ugh. “There was no room at that Pokémon Centre, so I thought I’d shortcut over to you two.” Shortcut was _not_ a verb.

Jude nodded to Rena. They were running out of words.

Together, the three approached the nurse.

“Hi!” said Rena. “Some rooms please.”

“I’m sorry, there’s no rooms at this Centre,” said the nurse, smiling at the three. “But there might still be some rooms elsewhere.” She tapped at her computer, brow furrowed. “Ah, it looks like there’s rooms available a few blocks west of here, on Orion Avenue. I can reserve them here and you can head over.” She beamed at them. Her uniform marked her as a senior Joy, but she didn’t seem anywhere near Dad’s age.

“That’d be great, thanks,” said Rena.

The nurse, who wasn’t wearing a nametag, furrowed her brow at her computer. “Looks like it has one single room and one double room.”

“I call the single!” said Rena, voice lifting to almost a shout. Jude winced, hands lifting to cover their ears. _Fuck._ “I called it, you can’t take it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Jude. They lowered their hands and looked to Lark, who was staring at the floor. “You okay with sharing a double?” It was bigger than a tent, at least, but Jude had been looking forward to having their own space. Something told them they’d be spending a lot of time on walks or hunting down climbing walls.

Lark nodded. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” said the nurse, voice too-loud in the space. “I’ll just reserve those rooms and you can be on your way.”

“Great. Let’s go,” said Jude. They turned, casting a glance at Lark, and Lark hurried after them.

“Wait up,” said Rena, hurrying after them. Jude slowed for Lark and their very short legs. “I know where Orion Avenue is, come on. I’ll lead.”

Wasn’t talking a thing people did? In this sort of situation? Walking and talking. Fuck that. There were no more words. No more thoughts. Just exhaustion and over-stimulation and a want to scream and smash and _hurt._

Rena yammered on about the city as they walked. Jude heard every word and absorbed none of them. They grated, digging into their skin until Jude had to stuff their chewing necklace into their mouth and bite down hard until the urge to snarl subsided.

They passed people who walked, people who biked, Pokémon that chattered and cawed and barked. The smells of food carts — hot dogs and hot pretzels and churros covered in cinnamon and sugar — mixed with body odours and street smell and the strange electric tingle that Jude always felt on their tongue in a city. Few touched Jude, despite them taking up more room on the sidewalk than most trainers. They took a wide berth around the trio, instead. Maybe it was Rena, yammering and loud and neon in ways that Jude felt went beyond literal. Or maybe it was Jude. They didn’t know.

But they did know when they reached the Pokémon Centre on Orion Avenue. It was tucked further back than the first, and there wasn’t a horde of trainers around this one.

Rena marched into the too-bright place with all its clean, sharp smells that made Jude think of Dad and his practice and death. They shook it off. Most people associated that smell with hope and health, didn’t they? Jude was the problem.

Not the rest of the world.

“Hi!” said Rena, too loud. Jude flinched. So did Lark, who was mostly hiding behind Jude. Jude let them, careful not to let their bags hit Lark. They got it. Hell, if they could hide behind someone right now, they would. “We have reserved rooms?”

“Ah, which ones?” asked the nurse. They were a lanky person and their nametag had curly lettering that Jude couldn’t make out, bar the “th” at the start of the pronoun section.

“I have a single and my lovely friends have a double,” said Rena. “Oh! And our Pokémon need to be healed.” She dug out her ball and kissed it. “Be safe, Beeps.”

Pokéballs handed over, phones keyed to the rooms — bedroom and bathroom — and Jude was free. _Free_.

They followed Lark and Rena into the elevator and to the third floor.

“See you later!” said Rena, waving, before heading into her room and all but slamming the door. Jude twitched. Bit their tongue. The pain grounded them.

Lark unlocked the door and the two stepped into silence and privacy and _bliss._

The double room had two beds, both singles and both on wooden frames with drawers underneath. There was a desk, a chest of drawers, a lamp, and some low, cushioned beds for Pokémon if they wanted them. A sign on the wall said that this room shared a multi-person, all-gender bathroom with the surrounding three rooms. Showers, sinks, that sort of thing.

Pale blue walls, pale blond furniture, soft blankets. No weird smell. It was, in two words, _fucking perfect._

“Do you want a specific bed?” asked Lark, their voice low.

“No,” said Jude, shaking their head. They set down the two bags at the foot of one bed and reached down to untie their boots. Their hands shook as they did and they stopped, clenching them into fists until it subsided. “You?”

“I like the one further from the window,” said Lark, quietly. Jude looked up. They’d taken the one near the window, on instinct.

“Yeah, cool,” said Jude. “Go nuts.” Words were hard. Very hard. But actions were easier. Still not alone, but it was easier, now. Easier when it was just Lark. Even if Rex should have been here. Even if Jude worried about him.

Lark shuffled over to the bed and flopped onto it, wrapping a pillow around their middle and letting out a quiet noise that Jude couldn’t place. They untied Lark’s bag from their own and settled it down at Lark’s feet.

Their phone buzzed. Why?

Oh. Pokémon Centre app. Jude had asked about the Shinx, hadn’t they? They couldn’t clear the fog around the lobby. The interactions. They could probably ask Lark, but that felt weird. Lark relied on them. Lark needed them.

Jude couldn’t tell Lark how much they were struggling with people. Not now. Not yet.

They opened the app. It was the alert that the info they wanted about their Shinx was ready. The timer on the Pokémon Centre app read just over an hour until Rex and the Shinx were healthy once again.

Lark rolled over and yanked off their shoes, letting out a groan before they flopped again.

“I want to sleep for a week,” mumbled Lark.

“You can,” said Jude. “If you’re challenging the gym, there’s no rush, right?” What was it that reporter had said about the gym? Jude didn’t know. Hadn’t been listening. Had been watching Lark. Figuring out when a good time to step in was.

Jude flipped open the Pokédex and skimmed the information. The vibrating had spread from their hands and down their arms, into their chest and stomach and hips. They needed to run, or climb, or punch. The first was probably the safest.

Distraction. Jude needed a distraction so that this wouldn’t get worse. They read the information more closely.

The Shinx was a few weeks shy of being allowed to train. In the second week of August, she’d be good to go. By the look of it, she’d be an over-sized Shinx, as her paw size indicated that she wasn’t yet full-sized. That meant she’d be an over-sized Luxray, too, probably over five feet at the shoulder, rather than the four and a half that most Luxray stood. Not quite rideable for Jude, but definitely for most.

“I have to wait for the lottery,” said Lark, curling deeper into the pillow. What? Oh. Right. Jude had asked a question. It was easier to drift. To pull back so the shaking didn’t get worse. They weren’t alone. Alone, they could fall apart. The showers were probably stalls. No yelling there, either.

Definitely needed to run.

“What’s the lottery?” Redirect. The Shinx needed a name. What would be a good name for a Shinx? This wasn’t the plan for their second Pokémon. They’d been thinking about a flying type, something that would evolve big enough to fly on. Something that Lark could fly on with them. It’d make travel easier. It’d make keeping an eye out easier.

“The early gyms have too many trainers to handle on their own, so there’s extra trainers to battle,” said Lark. “On Sundays, gyms do the lottery. Everyone who wants to battle the gym is part of the lottery. Winners battle the gym leader, losers battle the official trainers.”

Another stupid thing about the League, then. Whatever.

Jude squinted. “What’s the point of the gym leaders if they’re not the only ones battling? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

What was a good name for a Shinx? Well, Pokémon made up most of the stars and important mythos in the world, right? Maybe something to do with that.

“The gym leaders choose their official trainers,” said Lark. “And they choose their teams and movesets. It’s all really well done.” A pause. “Um, if you ask me, anyway.”

“Trust you more than them,” said Jude, without looking up. Star was a dumb name. So was Luna. Were Luxray fast? Not as fast as Rex would be, someday. But fast, regardless. They opened the Pokédex.

“Oh.” Soft. “Thank you.”

Yeah, they were decently fast. That settled it then.

“Comet,” said Jude.

“What?”

Jude looked up. Lark was paler than usual and their eyes were half-closed. Arceus, it was good they’d gotten here when they had. More days on the road wouldn’t be good for Lark.

“Shinx’s name, Comet,” said Jude. “What do you think?”

Lark’s eyes slipped closed. “I think Comet’s a great name.”

“You want me to leave so you can sleep?” asked Jude. This was a good excuse. If they left, they could run. If they left, they could drop the mask. If they left, they didn’t have to keep being strong.

“You don’t have to leave,” mumbled Lark.

“It’s all right. I wanted to call my dad, anyway,” said Jude. They pulled their boots back on and started lacing them. “I’ll come back when our Pokémon are ready, okay?” Lark nodded without opening their eyes. “Call me if you need me.” Was it selfish to want Lark not to need them?

Jude got to their feet and headed out of the room, stuffing their phone in their pocket as they went.

Time to run.

* * *

Lark was blissfully drifting in their sleep, images of Pokémon on ice skates and Jude climbing mountains while Lark watched from a cozy chair at the base of the mountain floating around them, when the shrill melody of Gen’s ring tone struck through their sleep and dragged them back to wakefulness.

Groggy, Lark grabbed for their phone, and with a groan, they answered and pulled it to their ear.

“Hey, Gen,” mumbled Lark.

“Lark!” Loud. Lark grimaced and pulled the phone from their ear. They wished Snowdrop was here. Or Candy. “I heard you were in Windwick. How are you?”

How did Gen know they were already in Windwick? Had the news aired? Would the news air? Lark hadn’t said anything.

“Tired,” mumbled Lark. “But I’m okay.”

“Good, good. Did you get another Pokémon? Are you going to challenge the gym? If you ask Moira, I’m sure she’d let you challenge this week instead of next week.”

Lark sighed out their nose and closed their eyes. They curled deeper into the blanket they’d pulled over themself.

“I don’t want special treatment. I can wait a week to join the lottery like everyone else,” said Lark. They wanted to go back to sleep. Maybe Gen would suddenly get busy and then Lark could nap for a while. The world was wobbly and the room was spinning in slow, lazy circles. Like a forgotten merry-go-round being pushed by the wind.

Gen hummed. “Well, I can respect wanting to do your journey the same way I did.” She gave a little laugh. “I can’t wait for you to get up here to Duskport.” Was that where Gen was? Of course she wouldn’t have stayed in Dawnmere for that long. But why Duskport? “Omar is already talking up a storm about you to anyone who will listen.”

Lark grimaced. Great. That was… great.

“I adore that man, I swear. He thinks of us as his own, most days.” Gen giggled. “I think he’s more excited about your journey than _I_ am.”

Lark made a note to avoid Duskport as long as possible.

“I’m not going to be there anytime soon,” mumbled Lark. “It’s the fourth gym. I’m not going to manage four gyms in a year.”

“You never know,” said Gen, cheerfully. “I know four isn’t normal, but there was that one trainer who set the record. Five gyms in what, six, seven months?” Five and a half. Which Gen knew. She was just pretending she didn’t.

Lark remembered that season. Remembered how awed everyone had been. Remembered the news latching onto that trainer, onto her journey. Remembered Gen’s genuine concern that she’d steamroll the tournament and become Champion in a single year, at seventeen.

They tried not to remember. The anxiety that had hung around the house, around Gen, that year, had left Lark choked up and terrified more often than not.

And they still weren’t sure about Gen’s reaction to the fall. To the end of that particular journey.

“Not that I think you’d push your Pokémon that hard,” said Gen, cutting through Lark’s thoughts. “You’re not that sort of person.”

Lark pressed their lips together, breathing through their nose.

“Oh! Speaking of journeys.” Gen clapped her hands together, which meant she was using headphones or a headset or something. Not speaker, it wasn’t echo-y enough.

Then, the words registered. Oh no. Lark bit back a sigh and dragged the blanket over their head.

“So, I remembered what you said about wanting more Pokémon that felt like _you_ ,” said Gen. That wasn’t what Lark had said. What Lark had _said_ was they wanted influence on who their Pokémon were.

But that wasn’t what Gen had heard. Lark frowned. Had they been unclear? Or had Gen simply heard what she wanted to hear?

They wished they could call Holland. Holland knew how Gen thought. Holland knew how to mediate.

“I have a surprise for you,” said Gen, tone sing-song. “On your birthday, or the day after, if you’re going to celebrate, head to Little Wick. I’ll send you the address. There’s going to be something there for you.”

Lark almost perked, hope brewing in their chest. Little Wick was a craft town, full of specific, quaint crafts that were all handmade. Maybe Gen had gotten Lark some hand-poured candles, or an embroidered jacket, or—

“I got you a Pokémon!” said Gen. She squealed over the phone and Lark pulled it away, hope dying. _Another_ Pokémon? They thought they were done with Gen’s gifts. But no, she was still trying to pick Lark’s team.

Maybe it would be a nice Pokémon? Lark fought a sigh. If they sighed, Gen would hear it.

“I can’t wait for you to meet them,” said Gen. Lark could hear her bouncing, wherever she was. “Arceus, I spent a long time with the breeders, trying to pick something just perfect for you.”

Lark curled deeper into the blankets. She’d _tried_ , hadn’t she? Even if Lark had wanted to pick their starter, Gen had made a great choice with Snowdrop. Lark didn’t know if they’d have been able to get their own Alolan Vulpix, and she was so cute, and so sweet. And Lark loved her _so much._

So whatever Pokémon Gen had wrangled this time was probably just as good. Yeah. Lark could handle that. Gen was trying. She just wanted Lark to have a good time on their journey and do the best they could.

“Okay. I’m excited,” said Lark, with a bit more excitement that they felt. They could do this. Yeah. They could do this.

…They still wanted to talk to Holland.

“Where are you?” asked Lark.

“Oh, nowhere special. Just getting ready to do some PR work at the Arlott Research Foundation,” said Gen. “But enough about me. This is your journey! Ah, I’m so excited.” She giggled. “Have you made any friends? Have you caught any Pokémon? Tell me _everything_.”

Lark wiggled themself out of their blanket cocoon and sat up, blankets pooling around them. The room was dim, Jude having turned out the lights when they left, and the light of the sun, not quite setting, but lowering all the same, cast through the sheer curtains and bathed the space in a soft, golden glow that left Lark yawning and rubbing at their eyes.

“I caught a Mareep,” said Lark. “I named her Candy.”

“Oh, that’s so _cute_ ,” said Gen. “Snowdrop and now Candy. Gah, I just love your taste in names.”

Lark beamed, chest warming. “Thank you! I really like them.” They leaned forward, resting one hand on their crossed legs. “And we met this girl on the route, Rena. She’s trying to be an anthropologist.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” said Gen. “Is she doing the gyms?”

“I don’t know,” said Lark. She tipped her head to one side. “I don’t think it really matters.”

Gen hummed, noncommittal and Lark sagged. Right. Gen didn’t like when people didn’t do the gyms. She had made so many comments about it when they were travelling, together. Stuff about how people who were just getting licenses to wander around shouldn’t be allowed, because it prevented others, worthier people, from getting theirs.

Lark was pretty sure that wasn’t how the licensing worked. Not that they’d ever told Gen that.

“I ended up travelling with Jude, from lunch,” said Lark. “They’re really nice and they’ve helped me learn how to battle and catch Pokémon. We set up a tent together and—”

“Jude?” Gen’s voice was careful, tight. “The one who threw the fit in the café?”

Lark swallowed. “They were overwhelmed. They said they were sorry.” Had they? Lark couldn’t remember. Jude was sorry they’d scared Lark, in the forest, but Lark hadn’t been scared.

People who went to all that trouble to get away from others when they were upset didn’t hurt other people. That was the whole _point_ of running. And besides, Jude didn’t feel like that kind of violent. Lark didn’t doubt that Jude would punch someone who was mean or bigoted or did something terrible, but they wouldn’t hurt Lark.

They just wouldn’t. Lark wished they knew how to explain that to Gen.

“Mm, still they don’t strike me as the type to handle stress well,” said Gen. Lark bit their tongue. Jude had handled the dying Luxray better than them and Rena. Jude had handled the other dead Pokémon and the Pokémon attacks on the route better than them and Rena. Jude had handled the rain, the furrows in the ground, _everything_ better than them and Rena.

Just because Jude didn’t like cities and loud noises didn’t mean they were incapable as a person. They just did better on the road. Lark understood. They didn’t prefer the road, but they liked being away from people. When there were no people around, there was no one to tell them they were embarrassing Gen just for existing the way they did. No one to pretend they weren’t tired and sore for.

“I think they’re okay,” said Lark, voice small.

Gen sighed. “I know, but be careful, okay? You want to make friends with trainers who can handle the gym circuit, Lark. You don’t want anyone dragging you down.” If anyone was dragging anyone down, Lark was dragging down Jude.

But Lark didn’t say that.

“And anyway, doesn’t that Jude think the League is beneath them?” It was a question, but it wasn’t. Lark listened with one ear and closed their eyes, chewing on their tongue. “Frankly, I don’t know _why_ they even took the routes. Why not just take the trains if you’re going to dismiss our traditions?”

Lark didn’t have an answer for that, but they didn’t think Gen was looking for one.

“Oh, looks like make-up is here, and so is my assistant. Okay, I’ve got to go,” said Gen. Lark sighed. “I know, I know, it sucks. But you’re doing so good and I’m so proud of you! Take on that first gym and show the world what you’re made of. Love you!”

“Love you too,” mumbled Lark, and then Gen was gone, back into her world while Lark was back into their own.

They fell back on the bed with a groan, phone falling into the blankets and vanishing. Lark put their hands over their face and fought back a scream.

They should have known talking about Jude would cause problems. They should have known that Gen would get weird about them and the training and everything. Lark had implied that Gen hadn’t taught them anything and that Jude was filling in the blanks. Lark had implied they were ungrateful.

And they weren’t. They were so grateful. But everything they said made it seem otherwise.

Gen deserved a sibling that understood her better. Someone who didn’t cause problems all the time. Someone who liked her gifts and her hovering and her loudness.

Gen deserved someone like Rena.

Not someone like Lark.

They weren’t going to get back to sleep, no matter how exhausted they were. The vibrating thoughts that bounced around their head weren’t going to let them rest. With a sigh, Lark pushed themself upright and wiggled across the bed. They reached into their bag and dug out their journal and their favourite pen, before scooting back across the bed to rest near the window.

Lark flicked open the curtains and peeked out on the street below. People of all sorts walked by, illuminated by both the sunset and the streetlights that were already on. One woman was walking with a Persian, another with a Furfrou. There were a pair of children riding a Rhyhorn, and a person with a white cane tap-tapped down the sidewalk while a Slowking held one of their hands and helped them along. Lark smiled. They hadn’t seen a guide Slowking before.

A headache sat itself in the base of Lark’s skull, thrumming quietly as it danced against the top of their spine. Lark grimaced and reached back, rubbing their head. Their fingers shook as they did and they sighed. The shakes were starting, which meant that the pain would creep into their joints and nerves within the next hour or so. Already, their elbows were starting to hurt. And their ankles. And their hips.

Painkillers. They needed painkillers. But not yet. The foggy, fuzzy feeling wasn’t nice. It left them confused and disoriented and groggy. Vulnerable. Scared. And if they were too tired, sometimes they had strange dreams.

Lark flipped open their journal and took a deep breath, holding it, then let it out slowly. They couldn’t change their pain, even if they wanted to. They just had to do what they could, then take their painkillers, then take a nap.

That would be okay.

Their journal detailed the various adventures of the opening ceremony and some parts of Route 1. Lark tried to journal most nights before bed, like Holland did, but the pain and exhaustion of walking all that way sometimes meant it took a few days to get back to writing. They wished they’d thought to bring an instant camera on their journey, so they could put pictures in their journal, but it was extra weight they couldn’t handle. There were lots of pictures on their phone, though, so they could always print them later and put them in the spots they’d left.

By their last entry, Lark had left off the night when they all found the Luxray and the Shinx. They hesitated, pen hovering above the empty page. Not a lot had happened since then, but remembering that moment made them shiver. The Shinx had lost her mom so young and now she was all alone in the world. At least Lark had always had Gen, and Gen had always had Lark. They weren’t alone.

They couldn’t imagine being all alone like that. It seemed awful.

With a quiet sigh, Lark set to work on writing, hoping they could finish the page before their hands cramped up too badly to keep going.

* * *

Jude ran. From the Pokémon Centre and out, down the quietest streets they could see at every street crossing. They kept a steady pace, not sprinting but not jogging. These weren’t the right clothes, but they were good enough. These weren’t the right shoes, but the boots were built for running, if need be.

So, they ran.

Time was nothing. Time was easy.

And when Jude finally stopped, they were far from the Pokémon Centre and almost half an hour had passed.

Catching their breath, Jude shifted into the shadows of a nearby building. Shadows stretched wide across the streets, the sunset bleeding the remaining light into fire.

Leaning against the sun-warmed bricks of what looked like a closed bakery, Jude dug into their pocket and pulled out their phone to call their dad.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Jude! I was hoping you’d call.” The low pitch of his voice, mixed with the laughter that laced each word, had Jude smiling. Jude closed their eyes and let out a slow sigh. Tension slipped from their shoulders.

“Hey, Dad.” They’d texted, the day before, to tell him they were almost to Windwick.

“Hey,” he said. “How’s my favourite reluctant trainer?” Jude snorted. “Did you make it to Windwick? Are you getting some rest? How are your friends?”

Jude sorted the list in their head, running through the texts they’d sent to him in the last few weeks. Most nights, Jude sent one or two texts to let him know how they were doing. A few times, they’d sent whole rants at two in the morning, complaining about Rena, about trainer culture. Once, to send a _lot_ of nasty comments about Genevieve and her lack of foresight in whatever Arceus-forsaken methods she’d used to prepare Lark for the wilds.

Which was to say _none._

“I’m fine. Coming down from a high.” It was the easiest way to put it. “We got to Windwick. There’s lots of people. Reporters are evil. I’ll rest later. I don’t know where Rena went, but I think she likes cities better than anyone else, and Lark is sleeping at the Pokémon Centre.” When would they go see the Pokémon Professor? Jude didn’t know. Rena would tell them soon. Right now, Jude just wasn’t in the mood to deal with her. Too much noise. Too much chaos.

Dad said, “Was it a bad one?”

“No.”

“That’s good. Did the reporters need to be handled?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. She was just a jerk.” Jude opened their eyes and stared up at the sky. The sunset continued, passing time despite Jude wishing it would pause. Walking in the dark didn’t bother them, but they worried about everyone else. The streets weren’t crowded, but small groups of women moved in and out of Jude’s peripherals. Some of them crossed the street to avoid Jude — clear from the darting of their eyes, paling of their skin, and the whispers they hid behind hands.

Jude rolled their eyes, ignoring the knot in their stomach. No matter what they did, people always did that. Treated Jude the same way they did with orange and red class Pokémon.

Idiots.

“Still bothered me, though,” murmured Jude. “We were barely in the city and she just came at Lark like…” Not a wild animal. Wild animals attacked for reason. Creatures, whether Pokémon or not, made _sense_. This didn’t. “I don’t know. Like an evil person, I guess. Someone who didn’t care about others.”

“It’s good you’re looking out for them,” said Dad. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for Lark to travel, what with all you’ve said about them.” Too much, probably. Jude had never kept secrets from Dad. Why would they? Note: ask Lark about boundaries.

Jude huffed out a breath. A woman walked by with several Furfrou, all with different fur styles and colours. They hadn’t seen that shade of red in a Furfrou style before. The Furfrou seemed proud of it, by the swinging of their tail and the hop in their steps.

Above, streetlights clicked on, and a handful of glowing Cutiefly buzzed around a few, watching. A Butterfree perched upon one, staring intently into the light. Jude hoped the little guy didn’t go blind. Damn lights.

“It’s good to know the both of you aren’t travelling alone,” said Dad. “I worry.”

“I’m fine on my own,” said Jude. They watched a parent go by with several children all under seven-ish. They had a Pikachu with them. Jude smiled, small. “And I couldn’t leave Lark. They wouldn’t have made it.” Jude had had nightmares about such a scenario, about what would have happened if Jude hadn’t met Lark and Lark had ended up in the routes alone.

They hadn’t told anyone about those dreams. Not even Dad.

They still weren’t sure what they meant.

Besides, it was pointless to wonder about impossibilities. Jude had met Lark. Now they were travelling together. Lark was almost a perfect travelling partner. They were quiet, sweet, nice, and interesting. They respected Jude, and Jude respected them. Jude wasn’t well versed in having friends, but the quiet evenings with Lark, before Rena, had been some of their favourite nights in recent memory.

“You’ve always done well on your own, but that doesn’t mean you _need_ to be on your own,” said Dad. “Everyone needs companions.”

Jude frowned. “I have Rex.”

“I know,” said Dad, sighing. “I know.” A brief pause, where Jude tried to figure out what Dad was implying by his repeated words, and then Dad spoke again. “So, Windwick. I know you’re not planning on taking on the gyms, so do you have any plans while you’re in the city?”

“I need to speak with the professor about the recent Pokémon attacks,” said Jude. Their gaze followed a few Hoothoot that flew overhead, calling out to one another in the growing darkness of dusk. “I don’t know if others have told her, but she needs as much data as possible.” How many trainers had dealt with these attacks in the last month? Rena had dealt with one on her own, and Jude had seen several both on their own and with others.

Logically, that meant more people had seen attacks. But Rena hadn’t noticed anything online, when she’d looked, and while Jude wasn’t fond of social media, their generation was. Hell, most _people_ were, at this point. But it lacked tone, nuance, and Jude couldn’t stand the uncertainty of text-based conversations for more than a few quick lines at a time.

Still, if people online weren’t talking up the attacks, then they weren’t as common as Jude thought they were. Jude was probably just unlucky, then. Or maybe they were getting the worst of it, because they were behind everyone else.

Something to think about.

“Have you seen any?” asked Jude.

Dad hummed. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been on the lookout, and I’ve had my ear to the ground up here, but we haven’t had anything like that yet. I’m guessing it has to do with population density and the travelling of trainers across routes. We don’t get a lot of foot traffic up here.”

Jude nodded. They’d considered that. “So the first few routes will be the worst, and it’ll peter off throughout the year.” That made sense. If they were right, that was. Otherwise, they were back to square one.

“Don’t draw conclusions too quickly,” said Dad. Sometimes, Jude thought he could read minds. But he wasn’t psychic, thank Arceus, so it was just a dumb anxiety thought. He knew them well. Of course he did. He was Dad. He knew Jude better than anyone else. He always would. “Remember to look at all the angles before you make a decision.”

Jude sighed. “Right.” They took a deep breath, tracing the bird Pokémon that flew overhead. The murmurs of people that passed by in small groups reached Jude’s free ear, and the smell of food from greasy brown paper bags barraged their nose with delicious smells that spoke of how bad the food was for you. Jude pressed their lips together.

Could Lark eat greasy food? If they could, it might be good to get tacos tonight. Or fried chicken. Mew, Jude could fight a Bewear for a good pizza at the moment. Route food was fine, and Jude made it better than most, but there was nothing like greasy take-out and a nine hour sleep afterwards.

“What’re you thinking, Jude?” asked Dad.

Jude tugged their thoughts away from food and back to the topic at hand. “Something’s going on, Dad. Something dangerous. I just know it.” They’d spent years in the wilds and it had never been like this. Sure, attacks happened. But not this often. Especially not on well-travelled routes. Especially not since the Ros Act had passed, back in 2015.

So what was going on?

“The professor will figure it out,” they said. “And the sooner she does, the sooner everything can go back to normal.” Not that normal was _great_ , but getting rid of this attack shit would make dealing with League shit a little easier. “I just need to protect Lark until then.”

Dad chuckled. “You always were a hero, Jude.” Jude wrinkled their face and shook their head, but said nothing. Dad wouldn’t stop if Jude started protesting. He’d just get worse. _Much_ worse. “Right, I need to go check on some patients. Are you all right, or would you like me to call back?”

“I’m good,” said Jude. And they were. Lots of thoughts, but they felt lighter than they had in days. “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, night jude-bug.” With that, he hung up, and Jude rolled their eyes at the old nickname. A play on words, and a dumb one at that, but it always made them smile.

Right. Jude put their phone away. Dad was handled, emotions were handled, there was still a bit of time until Rex and Comet and the others were ready for pick-up. They couldn’t get food until they asked Lark, and they didn’t want to wake up Lark from their much deserved nap.

What should they do now?

“Jude!” Jude sighed as Nolan’s voice plucked at their ears. Great. It seemed they weren’t done socializing today. Perfect.

“Hey, Nolan,” said Jude, turning to him. A shorter, brighter faced version of Nolan stood next to him. “And… mini-Nolan?”

“Grover!” chirped mini-Nolan, beaming. Where Nolan had dreadlocks, Grover’s hair was in tight curls close to his face. Where Nolan had square shoulders and some broadness to him, Grover was built like several toothpicks bundled together with dental floss. And where Nolan was slightly taller than Jude — wait. He wasn’t anymore. They were even, when he stepped up to Jude. Had they grown on the road? That’d explain the leg pain. They’d thought they’d just been overdoing it. — Grover was significantly shorter.

“Oh. Hey,” said Jude, nodding. They squinted at Nolan. He’d only been an inch or so taller, before, so Jude had cracked six feet on Route 1. Perfect. Even more height to keep people away from them.

They weren’t sure if that was sincere or sarcastic, and it was their own thoughts.

Jude said, “Um, who are you?” He had a name, but that wasn’t what Jude meant.

“I’m his brother,” said Grover. Nolan had a brother? Why hadn’t he been singled out during the opening ceremony, like Lark? Why hadn’t he been brought up at all? Why hadn’t Nolan brought him to the really shitty lunch?

Jude squinted at him.

“Okay?” They didn’t know what they were asking.

“I keep Grover out of the spotlight,” said Nolan, “because I care about him too much to let him face the media circus.” He put a hand on Grover’s shoulder. “I’m sure you understand.”

Jude nodded. It was… _nice_ of him, for lack of a better word. But they didn’t know how they felt about it. Didn’t know how they felt about anything, right now. Everything was very confusing.

“My brother told me about you,” said Grover, hopping forward — literal hopping. Wow. “He said you’re Jude, and you don’t wanna be Champion, which I totally understand, because I don’t either, and that you’re nice, and you save people. Also that you use they/them pronouns, which I won’t mess up because I’m used to it with Kai and Zain and Domino.” He beamed at Jude. “Also, you’re rocking the beard look.”

Beard look? Jude scratched their cheek and felt stubble. Long stubble. Damn. They hadn’t even noticed. They’d shave when they got back to the Pokémon Centre. There had to be a razor in their supplies, somewhere.

“Thanks,” said Jude, because it was polite. What were they supposed to say now?

“Are you gonna challenge the gym?” asked Grover. “Where’s your Pokémon?”

“No, and Pokémon Centre,” said Jude. They narrowed their eyes at Nolan. “I don’t want to be Champion because I don’t want to be a trainer.”

“Then why are you one?” asked Grover.

Jude rolled their eyes. “Because I hate myself.” Sarcasm.

“You shouldn’t. You seem cool,” said Grover.

And now Jude was blushing. Fuck, it was time to go back to the Pokémon Centre. Fuck socializing. Fuck trying to be a person, today. They were _done._

“Can I take a selfie with you?” asked Grover, staring up at Jude with a bright grin. “I want to take pictures with all the people on the road I think are awesome and special, and you seem like the perfect person to start that with. Please? I promise not to post it on PokeSnap or OiA. I mean, not unless you _say_ I can.”

Nolan rolled his eyes. “Didn’t I tell you to stay off those sites?”

“No, you said you wouldn’t put me on them. And now that I’m sixteen and on the road, I’m gonna be the _best_ Pokémon trainer slash vlogger the world has ever known!” He pumped a fist into the air and spun his words back toward Jude. “So, can I?”

What? What was he asking? Selfie. He’d asked for a selfie. So many words. And he was so _loud_. And he talked so _fast_. Like Rena but moreso. Jude hoped to Arceus they’d never have to deal with them both at the same time.

“I—” they started, because they couldn’t think of what else to say. “Um.” Their head spun and they put a hand to it. Everything felt hot. Too much. Greasy smells that had been so appetizing only a moment before were now turning their stomach. Noise grated against their ears like ice in a blender. And it was dark, getting darker, but the bright lights of the buildings and street made them squint. Where were their sunglasses? Their ear plugs? Back in their bag. Back at the Pokémon Centre. “Um.”

“How about we let Jude go and get settled in. I’m sure they’ve had a long journey here, just like you,” said Nolan. He put a hand on Grover’s shoulder. Grover stumbled back a few steps, toward Nolan. “You can get better selfie lighting during the day, anyway, and we don’t know if Jude is okay with having their picture taken with stubble.”

Stubble. Right. They needed to shave. They squinted at Nolan. What was he playing? Acting like he knew everything about Jude. Like Jude couldn’t take care of themself.

They were fine.

They just… needed a break.

“Okay, yeah, sure. Sorry,” said Grover. He beamed at them. “Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?”

“Need to talk to the Pokémon professor,” mumbled Jude. The words fell like unstirred molasses, clinging to them all the way down. “Busy.”

“All day?” asked Grover. What was that tone? Mockery? Anger? Annoyance? Where were their books? Jude closed their eyes against the world.

“Maybe the next day, then. I’ll text you. No pressure to reply,” said Nolan. There was never pressure. Who gave a shit if Nolan texted them? “C’mon, Grover. Let’s go.” A pause. “You gonna be okay, getting back on your own?”

Jude’s eyes snapped open. They found the red and orange of Nolan’s dip-dyed dreadlocks. “I’m _fine,_ _”_ they snapped, even though they weren’t. They stumbled passed him, gripped a street lamp, caught their breath, and pushed off for the Centre.

“Nice meeting you!” called Grover. And his laughter chased after Jude, nipping at their heels all the way to the Pokémon Centre.

* * *

Jude collapsed face first onto their bed when they got back, boots be damned. They pressed their face to the sheets and drew their pillow close, rolling onto their side to face the wall as they squeezed the pillow tight to their chest.

Deep breaths. In, then out, then in again. Slow and steady.

They wanted to scream. Swear. Punch something. Too much inside. Too much outside. No way to get it out and make it better.

Jude jerked, slammed a fist into the wall. It dented. Pain bloomed across their knuckles. Jude swore under their breath and shook their hand out. Stared at the dent in the plaster.

They’d probably have to pay for that.

Jude punched, other hand. Hit the same spot. Deeper dent. Again. And again. And again. Alternated hands. Until the dent was more of a hole. Pay the price. Pain in their hands and calm in their head. Who cared about the money?

A deep breath. Blood trickled from a split knuckle. Jude stuck it in their mouth and suckled on it. Taste of iron and sweat and fear on their tongue. Fear always had a taste, a smell, even if no one back home understood. It was sharp, bitter, and high. High like a scream. High like a siren.

They stopped hitting. Their hands hurt enough. The noise was quiet enough. For now. Maybe somewhere in this city would have better options. Or they could start punching bricks. Bricks always won. Didn’t have to pay for them.

“Um.” Jude froze at the soft, concerned voice behind them. _Lark_. Had they been there the whole time? “Are you okay?” Jude hadn’t even looked at that half of the room. Hadn’t thought about Lark and their nap, or their needs. Just their own. Stupid. _Stupid._

Lark continued. “I-I know that’s probably a-a stupid, um, question, y’know? But I, I thought I’d ask?” It came out as a question. Fear. Jude had scared Lark. Oh no. Oh _no_ , no no no _no._ They couldn’t scare Lark. Lark was the only part of this journey worth holding on to.

Jude shoved themself upright, watching the red run down the lines in their skin and into the sheets. They scooted to the wall, turning to press their back to it, and crossed their legs, resting their hands in their lap.

“I, uh,” they couldn’t look at Lark, just at their hands. Their voice was rough, too rough, “I’ll be fine. Just…” What could they say? Lying was pointless. It was stupid and Lark had seen everything, which made it more stupid than usual. “Overwhelmed.”

“I understand,” said Lark. “I’m sorry about your hands. Do you need help bandaging them?”

Jude blinked. What? Hadn’t they scared Lark? Wasn’t that the whole reason Lark sounded like that?

“They look hurt,” said Lark, voice still low. They didn’t sound scared, did they? They had. Or had they? Maybe. Emotions were hard. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do other than offer to patch you up.”

Jude drew their hands up to their face and scrubbed them down it. The fear tainted smell of blood dragged across their nostrils. Did that mean they were allowed to make suggestions?

Worst thing Lark could say was no.

“Just tell me what you’re thinking,” said Jude, words half mumbled into their hands. “Are you upset? Are you scared? Does me freaking out bother you?” They weren’t used to people seeing them do this. Lark had seen this once before, but Jude hadn’t known until later, when they’d calmed down. But the world was loud, and the lights outside were bright, and the lamp Lark had on was bright. And their heart pounded hard in their chest and in their ears. Ringing and pounding and screaming.

“No, no, it’s okay,” said Lark. Jude kept their eyes closed against the world. “You don’t scare me, Jude. I promise.” Softer, then. “You don’t scare me.”

Jude swallowed. Really? How? Everyone was scared of them. People backed up when they came near. People crossed the street to avoid them. And if they were still growing — Arceus, why were they still _growing?_ — then it was only going to get worse.

“You make me feel safe.”

Jude lifted their head just enough to stare at Lark. At the little smile. At the bangs that hung in their face. At the tilt to their head and the wrinkles around their eyes.

“Really?” whispered Jude.

Lark nodded. “Really. I’m sorry it’s all so hard for you. But…” A hesitation. Lark twirled a strand of hair around one finger. “I don’t want to overstep, but, if you help me in the routes, maybe I can help you in cities?” Lark’s gaze was strong. Jude kept their own on Lark’s shoulders. “Like with the sunglasses.”

“Maybe,” said Jude. Too many things to think about. Too much to wrap their head around. They closed their eyes again. “Just… not right now.”

“What do you need right now?” asked Lark. Jude shrugged. Rex. They needed Rex. “Um… if you don’t wanna go back downstairs, I know the nurses will bring Pokéballs up if you ask nicely. They’re very nice.” Jude drew their knees to their chest and hugged themself. That was a thing? That’d be great.

“Did you get some sleep?” asked Jude.

“No.” Jude frowned. “Not really,” said Lark. “Gen called. I couldn’t get back to sleep after.” Of course. Somehow, that didn’t surprise Jude. They scowled into their knees. “Maybe we could both nap, now? Get our Pokémon and sleep. Would that help?”

Jude nodded.

“Okay. I’ll send the message then,” said Lark.

Jude let themself flop over in the bed, pulling the pillow tight to their chest while Lark tapped away on their phone.

Getting Rex back would be nice.

Maybe then everything inside them would stop screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply adored. They mean so, so much to me. <3


	11. A Thorn in the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _*Deep dreamy sigh*_ Ah, the long awaited (for me at least) arrival of my _favourite character_ , Astrid. The most self-indulgent, and oldest (having created her in 2013) OC I have for Pokemon. Hell yeah.
> 
> And don't worry about whatever feelings you have for her. I like to have fun with my supporting characters.
> 
> **tw** for some misgendering in this chapter (not by anyone you're supposed to like)

Morning broke grey, wet, and dreary, with promises of a thunderstorm lingering at the edges of the city. After getting the four Pokémon to brave the damp to use the bathroom outside, Jude tucked back into their bed, back to the wall, and pulled out their sketchbook.

Lark dozed, curled up with Candy and Snowdrop, hair hanging partially over their face and one arm draped across the blankets. Their head was tilted to one side, lips parted and a thin line of drool trickling from one corner of their mouth. Their brow was smooth, their eyes closed but not squinted.

They looked peaceful. More than they had yesterday, anyway, and Jude studied each detail, determined to get it all down in charcoal. Their fingers were already stained up to the smallest knuckle and the charcoal crept closer to their mid-knuckle with each stroke on the page.

Rex curled against their leg on one side, Comet slept pressed against them on the other. She hadn’t picked up that Comet was her name, yet, but it hadn’t been a whole day since that introduction. It’d take time. She was young, confused, and inexperienced. Reminded Jude of someone they knew.

Their gaze went back to Lark. Jude squinted, fingers pausing as they tried to work out the intricacies of Lark’s hair. Too many uneven layers. Like they’d taken scissors to it more than once. Jude reached up and ran their thumb over their jaw. Smooth, freshly shaved. Something else they’d done last night, between the panic and the pain.

Probably left charcoal on their face. Better than anything else they could put on it.

Jude worked in silence for some time, lips pressed together and head tipping one direction, then another, then back the first way. Time slipped away from them. The sound of charcoal scratching against thick paper and the snuffling of Pokémon and people alike the only rhythm they needed.

Bit by bit, the details of Lark emerged. The uneven curve of their eyebrows. The parting of their lips. The fall of their hair over their forehead and ears. The way Snowdrop slept on her back and Lark had an arm around her. The way Candy became a pillow that elevated Lark’s head. The wrinkle of their nose from occasional sneezes as stray fur from Snowdrop tickled them.

Jude wanted a second chance at this, the next time Lark napped in a sunbeam. Wanted to see and study the contrast in the lighting of the two versions of Lark. This one, with the soft glow of a lamp tossing yellow shadows across their nose and cheekbones, with the murky grey of the bleak weather that muddied their colours and their edges, versus the animated one Jude often saw in the routes, with the brilliant light of the sun filtered through hundreds of leaves before it dusted Lark’s face, with the sharp shadows throwing their facial expressions into sharper relief. They’d seen Lark in action, in the sun, but not at rest. The thought of that contrast had them making a mental note to save the page after this one, just to be able to flip between the two with ease.

In the last details of their drawing, as they finalized the shadows in Candy’s wool, Jude’s phone buzzed against their hip. With a quiet huff of frustration, they grabbed the phone with several charcoal covered fingers, balancing the piece of charcoal in their other hand.

A text message from Rena. By the clock, there was still an hour before they had to leave for the Pokémon professor’s laboratory. Jude went to toss the phone back down, message flagged as unimportant in their mind, when the words they were reading finally registered.

_‘Is this you?’_ It read, followed by a link to a video on _Overheard in Altera_.

Frowning, Jude grabbed their headphones from atop Comet and stuffed them into their ears, swiping open their phone and the video in one motion. The video stuttered, opening in the text because Jude didn’t have OiA installed.

It zipped to a spot about halfway through the video and started playing.

_“And that, my dear watchers, brings me to my next point: Lark Harrow.”_ It was the reporter woman from before. Jude hadn’t cared to remember her name. Her words made them frown. What the hell was this about? _“Lark seems to be the same quiet, introverted soul we’ve all come to watch from afar over the years. Never stepping out of bounds. But I can’t say the same for their travel companions. Not including the downright strange look of the girl travelling with them—_ ” Rena. Jude’s frown deepened into a scowl. Rena looked great. Her hair was gorgeous, her rolls gave her a softness that made her seem approachable, bubbly, and beautiful all at once, and her fashion tastes may not have been Jude’s, but they worked great on her. Sure, she was annoying, but the reporter didn’t know that! _“—I wanted to touch on how_ rude _the young man travelling with them is._ _”_

Jude’s ears rang and they grimaced, yanking out one headphone to dim the noise that grew steadily in their head. They rubbed a hand over their face, the smoothness reminding them of how smooth it hadn’t been, when that reporter had accosted Lark.

Stupid. Of course a reporter would go with what they assumed. How was Jude supposed to argue otherwise? Stupid. And stupider still to be upset.

And yet.

_“He was rude, aggressive, and frankly, terrifying. You wouldn’t expect someone that_ big _to be a companion of Lark_ _’s, and I can’t help but wonder just what he’s up to.”_ A clip of Jude flipping off the camera — they hadn’t noticed it, shit — played while the audio continued. _“I haven’t had a chance to speak with Genevieve yet, but I can’t imagine she approves of such a downright unpleasant man spending time with her only family member.”_ Jude stopped the video and closed it. Saw Rena’s text.

_‘Unfortunately,’_ they replied, before muting their phone and tossing it, and their ear buds aside.

Jude scrubbed a hand over their face. _Fuck._ Fuck! The language change didn’t escape them. Rena was a girl. Lark was given soft words. But Jude was described as aggressive, scary, large, and a _young man_. Made older, larger, more powerful than they were. Just like in Furrowbury. You couldn’t be a kid when you were Jude’s size. It just wasn’t allowed. People assumed size meant power, meant maturity. Fuck.

And now there were a shit ton of people on the internet who had their face and the wrong pronouns attached to it. Fucking fantastic. That was going to be hell if anyone recognized them. Arceus, Mew, and fucking Giratina themself. What a bullshit morning this was.

Lark stirred in their bed, big eyes blinking open as they squinted in the low light of the room.

“Jude?” they mumbled, lifting one small hand to rub at their eyes. “Is everything okay? I heard you grumbling.” Jude winced. They’d been making noise?

Lark pushed themself upright and looked to Jude, then started giggling, one hand falling over their mouth. Jude frowned. Lark kept giggling.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I, um,” Lark gestured to their own face. “Your face is covered in charcoal. It looks really silly.”

Jude stared down at their hands, saw the black mess, and grimaced. Right. “Hang on,” they mumbled. “Lemme go get cleaned up.” They pushed off the bed, ignoring Rex and Comet’s quiet whines of protest, and shuffled down the hall to rinse off their face.

When they got back, Lark was petting Snowdrop, who had crawled into their lap, and looked moderately more awake.

“Did something happen?” asked Lark, watching Jude with big, bright eyes.

Jude flopped onto the bed on their back, propping themself up with their elbows and staring at the ceiling. “Reporter from yesterday. Misgendering. Bad language. Thinks I’m a predator of some sort.” Jude dropped down, arms splayed, head in the sheets. “Same bullshit as back home.”

Lark made a quiet noise. “I’m sorry.”

Jude shrugged. “Not your fault.” They closed their eyes. Lights and shadows danced across them. “I have to meet Rena in a little while.” They turned their head and opened their eyes. Lark watched them with a furrowed brow. “How are you?”

Lark smiled. “Good. The rest helped a lot. And Candy is really comfy to sleep on.” Candy baa’d in response. Lark giggled. “Plus, I’m used to sleeping with you, so it wasn’t hard to fall asleep.” They flushed red. “Not sleeping with you, um, like _that_. I-I meant like in the tent. Next to each other.” They ducked their head. “Except we have more room here.”

What? Oh, sexual innuendo. Those didn’t matter. Not if you didn’t mean them. Should Jude tell Lark that? They didn’t know.

“How are you?” Lark asked.

Jude shrugged. “Better than yesterday, worse than the day before.” Fucking cities. Arceus, they were stuck here until Lark got their first badge, too. Maybe Jude could slip back into the edges of Route 1 for training, nap in a tree, do some climbing if they could. Anything to get rid of the urban sprawl that bore down on all sides, even in this room.

How much city would they have to traverse to get to the lab? Jude fought a curse and rising panic all at once. They hadn’t considered that, before now. _Fuck._

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Lark.

Jude sighed. “No.” Then, “Where’s the lab, from here?”

Lark tipped their head to one side. “Um…” They wrinkled their brow, bringing one hand to their chin to tap a finger against their lips. “Not far. A few blocks, I think. Maybe ten minutes?” They winced. “I think it’s mostly main roads, though. I’m sorry.”

Jude sighed a second time and turned their head to stare at the ceiling. “Still not your fault,” they said. Ten minutes wasn’t so bad. If living in a town had taught them anything, it was that city people were weak, and the promise of rain would keep them inside. Less people, less noise, less stress. Not so much worse than a day in Furrowbury.

Jude grimaced; shuddered a little. Bad comparison. Anything was better than a day in Furrowbury.

A few minutes of silence passed. Jude closed their eyes, enjoying the silence as Rex and Comet both snuggled back in on either side of them.

Eventually, it was broken by a quiet question from Lark.

“Were you… drawing something?”

Jude blinked their eyes open. Oh, right. Yeah. They sat up and grabbed their sketchbook, tucking the charcoal back into the little bag they kept all the pieces in. Wiping their hand off on their pants, Jude spun the sketchbook around with the other, showing it to Lark.

“Yeah, what do you think?” they asked.

Lark stared, mouth falling open and eyes going wide. “Oh wow!” they said, breaking into a smile. “That’s me. I look so good. You—” They grinned at Jude. “—You’re _really_ good. You must practice a lot.”

Jude flushed warm at their words. They rubbed the back of their neck with their free hand and coughed. “Mostly I draw Pokémon and landscapes. I don’t get a chance to draw a lot of people.” The jawline was wrong. Too sharp. And the eyes weren’t as soft as they should have been, even closed. Plus the wrinkles of the clothes were closer to folds in fur and skin, rather than fabric. More things to practice. More things to study. Not perfect, not even great. But not horrible, not _bad_ , for their first try at Lark.

“I really like the way I look in it,” said Lark, hugging Snowdrop to their chest. She cooed. “I look happy.”

You seem happy, Jude didn’t say. “I’m glad you like it,” they said, instead. Score one for social skills for the day. What else were they supposed to say? Where was their checklist? …Plans! Plans for the day. “Did you have anything you were going to do today?”

Lark shrugged. “I dunno. Sleep more, maybe ready, catch up on OiA stuff. I think I have some interview requests that I have to turn down.” They winced. “I’m sorry, that makes me sound really conceited.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Jude, snorting. “If they’re anything like that chick from yesterday, you should _always_ turn them down. Mew, they’re like roaches, and not the friendly kind.”

“There’s friendly roaches?” Lark wrinkled their nose. “Creepy.” They shuddered.

Jude got to their feet and dug through their bag, looking for what they’d need for the day. As they did, they ran over the reporter from yesterday. She’d lodged herself in Jude’s mind, but not for the insults and comments she’d launched at Jude. Instead, for some of the things she’d said to Lark.

“Is your birthday tomorrow?” Lark had mentioned it before, on the route. And the reporter had, as well, but Jude kept losing track of the days. They didn’t mean much, so long as the alarm that went off at the end of their year on the road kept ticking away.

“Mm-hm,” said Lark. “Gen wants me to go to Little Wick. She said my present is there.” A pause. “I like the crafty stuff there, so I think it’d be fun to wander around there for a few hours.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” said Jude. “Little Wick is small, right? Should be fine.” Silence. Jude looked up and cocked their head. Lark watched them with a furrowed brow. “What?”

“You… want to spend my birthday with me?”

“Yeah,” said Jude, nodding. “Why, do you not want me to?” Rex padded across the bed and flopped down at the bottom of it, nosing at Jude. Comet stayed curled near Jude’s pillow, yawning like the lazy cat Pokémon she was already proving herself to be.

“No!” said Lark. Oh. “No, I mean, yes. I do. I just thought, I dunno, that you’d have more important things to do.” Lark stared down at their feet, hair hanging in their face. “Y’know?”

Jude went bag to digging through their bag. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

“Oh,” said Lark, voice soft. “That’s great. Cool.” They sounded like they were smiling and when Jude looked up, they were, in fact, smiling. Jude smiled as well.

* * *

Jude regretted not bringing earplugs. Rena was _loud_ and so was the city. The only thing making it tolerable were their sunglasses, pressed tight to their face and blocking the dull light the brim of their cap didn’t.

“—The cultural developments in the moderately closed system of the medical school in Shadefield are so fascinating,” Rena was saying. Jude blinked. What was she talking about? The clouds rumbled overhead and ozone lingered on Jude’s tongue. Rex trotted next to them, wincing at the sky whenever it growled down at the group. “But Ditto are just fantastic for anthropological studies. I’d love to get one, someday, but I am _so_ not qualified to raise a 5-T Pokémon.”

Jude nodded. The idea of Rena taking on one of the hardest to train non-restricted class Pokémon was… terrifying. She’d probably get them and herself killed inside a week.

“How far are we from the lab?” asked Jude. Get out of the streets, get away from the noise, explain the issue, and get back to the Pokémon Centre before the rain started. Simple.

“It’s right there,” said Rena, pointing up ahead as they turned a corner.

Jude looked up, following Rena’s hand, and didn’t have to ask which building she meant. The brown bricks and pastel roofs of the skinny, several storey high buildings in this part of Windwick made the whole street feel storybook and strange. The modern cars, modern clothes, and grey overcast were… strange, for lack of a better word. Like someone put the wrong picture in a collage.

The worst of all was the lab. Gleaming and shining white and metal and glass where everything else was brick and tile roofs. Roundness that ruined edges while the buildings around it were all edges. Tall where the rest were lean and gangly. Windows blacked out somehow, the sky reflected so that it loomed in the street, when the rest of the windows were curtained or glowing with yellow-white light.

Jude swallowed. _Great._

The skies seemed to darken with each step toward the lab. Rena chattered away but Jude paid her little mind. Why was this so hard? They wanted to talk to the professor about the attacks. Going into the lab didn’t have to _mean_ anything other than that.

But it did, at least to everyone else in the culture that Jude was victim to. The Pokémon Professor’s lab, while no longer the place where most received starter Pokémon or Pokédexes, held an important role in society, especially for new trainers. Most trainers visited the professor during their journey. Most wanted to share their adventures with someone whose entire _job_ was to be excited about Pokémon.

Pokémon professors would, logically, have big egos because of that. They were lauded. They were idolized. They were worshipped. Just like the Champion. Just like the rest of the League. Arceus, why were they even doing this? There was no way she was going to believe Jude. She was League. She had a doctorate in something Pokémon related, probably behaviour.

She’d just dismiss Jude, like anyone else in the League would.

This was pointless.

But hell, they said they’d try. So, they’d try. If only because they weren’t a liar.

“You’re gonna _love_ Auntie Holly,” said Rena, skipping ahead as they approached the building. “She’s super sweet. Her partner, Echo, is Beep’s dad!” Beeps, who floated next to Rena, beeped and whistled, flashing the three colours in his little hands.

Jude fought a sigh. If _Rena_ liked her, this was going to be even more interesting. So far, Rena was… a lot. Not horrible, but if Jude had a choice between a rampaging Pokémon and lunch with Rena, well, it would be a much harder choice than for most.

The lab loomed, gleaming like glasses slid down judgemental noses, and Jude scowled up at it, a thousand plus detentions, suspensions, and parent-teacher meetings bearing down on them from the depths of their memories.

“Ready?” asked Rena, and Jude could have been standing outside the principal’s office of Furrowbury’s only school, waiting for the hammer to drop for what was probably the second time that week.

“Yeah,” said Jude, turning their gaze away from the building with a frown. “Let’s get this done.”

The wet heat of a July storm swept away with the whoosh of automatic doors, replaced with the artificially cold, dry air of the lab. Jude steeled themself for the sterile taste of the air while they stared at their feet. But, when they inhaled, there was no sterile smell. No sterile, too-clean taste that whispered of blood since washed away.

It was… vanilla, and honey, and cinnamon, and maybe brown sugar. Nutmeg? Seasons. Holidays. Winter and autumn and not at all like the world outside. And neither did the interior match the exterior, in furnishings.

The main floor was wide open to about halfway back, where a wall divided the space and doors sprung up along it instead of the posters, screens, and windows that littered the rest. A sunken area held seating, all clean lines and warm wood tones. Curving stairs led up to an exposed second floor that took up part of the open space and went back over the rest of the hidden first floor.

Above, computers, bookcases, machinery. Below, more machines, furniture, and enough tables full of scientific nonsense that Jude couldn’t hope to keep up with it.

Yet, there were candles, throw pillows, pictures of a family that Jude didn’t recognize but held people that looked like Rena — at least in the pictures that Jude could see.

Their gaze tracked the stairs, to the wooden railing that surrounded the vast, open space of the second storey, to the columns that supported the nearly-floating floor. Not much of a climb, though the ceiling/floor had to be twice their height, but the temptation was there all the same.

Get one foot sturdy, climb a column, grab the lip of the upper floor, then turn, grab the railing, and hoist themself up and over. Easy. Elementary.

Rules. Damn rules.

“Huh. I wonder where she is,” said Rena. Jude blinked, looked around, and it dawned on them that there was no one visible. Maybe they were in the back rooms? Or maybe they weren’t here? Then why would the lab be open? How did labs even _work_?

“Hello?” called Rena.

Rex went to attention at Jude’s side, staring up at the second storey. The hairs on the back of Jude’s neck rose.

A woman in a duster coat strode into view on the second storey. In the light breeze of the AC, her pale yellow hair, which hung down to almost her waist, stirred around her. She stared down at them, her eyes cold even from this distance, as she leaned against the railing.

“Oh, it’s just you,” said the woman, giving an exaggerated roll of her head that probably meant she’d also rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Hale?”

Rena scowled and stomped one foot, folding her arms over her chest. “Ugh. Astrid. What are _you_ doing here?”

“Unlike you, I actually work here,” said the woman — Astrid. Rex let out a low growl in the back of his throat. Jude squinted at him. What was _up_ with him? He almost never reacted like this. He hated a ton of people back in Furrowbury, but that was because of how they treated Jude, and also because they were all horrible, awful people.

Astrid pushed off the railing and strode down the stairs, the firm click-click of her boots echoing in the empty space. She paused on the last step, gaze flicking across Rena, then Jude.

Jude watched her nose. Straight, with a flat spot on the bridge. Like it had been broken once. And she wore the high collar of her duster turned up. Was it really that cold in here? Jude had no sleeves and they were fine.

“Where’s Auntie Holly?” asked Rena, blowing her bangs out of her face. She had her neon curls pulled into a high ponytail, today. That ponytail towered over everyone else in the room, the curls bursting like flowers from above the back of her head. “We have something important to tell her.”

“Important? You?” Astrid snorted. “I would _love_ to know what you count as important this time.” Astrid stepped off the stairs and strode toward one of the computer terminals. She carried no Pokéballs and no Pokémon followed her. Why? Who didn’t carry Pokémon? Everyone had a Pokémon. Owning a Pokémon, even a family one, was just… normal.

So why was a woman in a Pokémon lab without a Pokémon?

“I’ll have you know that the mushroom growth rates of socialized versus ostracized Paras was incredibly important to the social habits of nearby Grass-type younglings.” Rena scowled. “Just because _you_ don’t see the point in studying small Pokémon in the wild doesn’t make it useless.”

Wait—Paras? What was that about Paras? Could that be connected to the attacks? They’d have to ask Rena whenever… _this_ was over.

Astrid snorted and, without looking up from the terminal, replied, “If the mushrooms of a singular group of Paras can effect an ecosystem as vast as the Vanishing Forest without a sign beyond some _sad Budew,_ then, frankly, my own concern is where they are and how difficult it would be to relocate or get rid of them.” Astrid squinted at the terminal screen and pulled a pair of glasses from her jacket, putting them on.

Jude swallowed. Get rid of? Was she talking about killing innocent Pokémon? How dare she!

“The lives of the entire forest are far more worthwhile than that of a singular group of Paras,” continued Astrid. “If it comes to it, and extermination is the best course of action, will you be prepared to publish with that knowledge, Hale?”

Rena scowled. “It won’t be.”

“You don’t know that,” said Astrid. She turned from the terminal and levelled a hard look at Rena and Jude. “You fancy yourself a scientist, don’t you? Surely, you can understand the importance of protecting the very nature you seek to study.” Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe if you hadn’t talked Auntie Holly out of letting me study them as a junior researcher, I could have found out a different solution,” snapped Rena.

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Why are you so naive?”

“And why are _you_ such a raging bitch?” Rena stomped one foot, again. “And anyway, it’s not like what we wanna tell Auntie Holly has anything to do with _you_ , we’re trying to tell her about all these Pokémon attacks we’ve been seeing.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow. Jude looked back and forth between them. What was going _on_? How did these two know each other? Why was Rena acting so differently? Where was the weird, bubbly girl who never shut up about things she loved?

This was aggressive. This was _mean_.

“Pokémon attacks? Really? I knew you were desperate for attention, but lying about Pokémon attacks? That’s low, even for you,” said Astrid.

“It’s not—” started Rena.

“Oh come on, look around. We’ve got the best tech in the region and the rangers at our beck and call.” Astrid stepped forward, Jude stepped back. She strode toward Rena and stopped, towering, looming, over her. “You think you and your _friend_ here can do better than that?” She looked to Jude and sniffed.

Rex growled. Jude growled in tandem.

“Hey. We know what we saw,” said Jude, voice dipping low and snarling. “You think we’d make up dead Pokémon and orphaned cubs just for attention?” Jude took a step forward. Astrid turned. She was shorter, but not by as much as most. Jude bore down on her with their eyes and their voice.

“Well, frankly, I don’t know that much about you, Jude Farr of Furrowbury,” said Astrid.

The world went cold.

“How do you know who I am?” Jude’s voice was hoarse, shaky. How in the hell—?

“You’re a trainer. Your name, your hometown, and your known Pokémon are public knowledge on Overheard in Altera. After the tragic report about Harrow, this morning, I thought I’d look into their mysterious saviour.” Astrid raised an eyebrow at Jude. “You really should know that.” She was mocking them. Jude was _certain_ she was mocking them.

“I’m not a trainer.” Those were the only words Jude could get out. They weren’t. They weren’t a trainer.

“If you’re not a trainer, then that means I looked up the wrong person.” Astrid stepped back and folded her arms. Her glasses had a blue sheen to them in the light of the windows. “So, tell me, then, where I go wrong. Are you not Jude Farr, age sixteen, registered trainer from Furrowbury with documented disability.” Jude bristled. “Partner Pokémon…” The barest pause. “Growlithe.” Something odd in her voice. “Now, what about that is wrong?”

Nothing. Nothing was wrong. Jude’s information was fucking on the internet for everyone to see and this woman, this _girl,_ was using it to mock them.

Jude wanted to punch something.

“Mew, Astrid, why do you have to be such a jerk?” snapped Rena. “You know, being an uppity bitch doesn’t automatically make you _better_ than everyone else.” She stepped up next to Jude. Jude stepped back. Rena stepped into their spot, and Jude peered around Rena’s hair, ears ringing.

Astrid snorted. “And being loud doesn’t make you worth listening to, but you’ve never let _that_ stop you, have you?” She flicked her chin, tossing hair. “Why don’t you go back to your little room at the Pokémon Centre and let the rangers do their jobs. If there really _were_ problems, don’t you think we’d know about them? We don’t need children mucking up our jobs.”

“Hey—”

“Besides, don’t you cause enough strife, needing to be rescued so often?” Astrid raised an eyebrow. “You’re nothing but a drain on regional resources.”

Rena huffed. “I am _trying_ to study wild Pokémon culture, which would be a lot easier if _you_ didn’t keep getting in my way.”

Astrid matched her tone. Frustration or anger? Jude couldn’t tell.

“And _I_ am trying to save valuable resources for things actually worth researching. Don’t you think if there was anything worth finding in that stupid, niche field of yours, we would have found it already?”

Rena folded her arms. “So says the woman studying Pokémon evolution, as if _that_ _’s_ not done to death.”

“Unlike you,” snapped Astrid, “my field has had advancements in the last, oh, fifty years or so.”

Rena growled. “Arrogant bitch.”

Astrid snorted, smirking. “Loud-mouthed hillbilly.”

“Rena!” Another voice, this time from the first floor, far back, and much happier than the others in the room. Jude looked up, glad to be away from the confusing argument. A bouncy woman built like a Teddiursa with warm brown skin came almost skipping toward the trio. Her overlarge glasses gave her a Hoothoot-ish gaze, and her cloud-like mass of dark hair was streaked with grey, like lightning from a storm. “How’s my favourite niece?”

“Auntie,” said Rena, her expression shifting from anger to joy in a split second. Jude grimaced. Great. Stupid facial expressions. Now they had to play speed rounds with them. “Oh, y’know, surviving. I made a friend.” She gestured to Jude and Jude took a step back.

Astrid snorted. “I think they disagree with you on that.” Jude narrowed their eyes. What was _wrong_ with this woman?

“Astrid,” said the woman. Auntie, that meant Gaea. Professor Gaea. This was the Pokémon Professor. Her voice was hard and her big eyes narrowed. “Behave.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’ve got work to do.” She moved passed them, slamming her right arm into Rena’s, who squawked, and stalked off. Not up the stairs, but out a side door on the first floor, which she slammed behind her.

Professor Gaea winced. “Don’t mind her. She’s… temperamental.”

“No shit,” muttered Jude, before they could stop themself. Then, “Sorry.” They grimaced, looking to Professor Gaea, then away. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” said Professor Gaea. “I’m Holly Gaea, the Pokémon Professor. You’re free to call me whatever is easiest for you, so long as it’s polite. You’re the one who saved my niece in that Pokémon attack, aren’t you?”

Jude nodded, staring at the floor. It was a nice floor.

“Well, thank you. You know, she’s always getting into trouble. I’m glad to know someone is looking out for her.” Jude nodded again. “So.” She clapped her hands together. Jude jumped, wincing, curling back. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I won’t do that again.” Jude shrugged and shuffled back a few more steps. The backs of their legs bumped into the side of a couch.

Nowhere to go.

Rex rubbed against their side, his hackles down now that Astrid was gone.

“What can I do for you two? I know some trainers like to pop in to see how things work and get my opinion on their starters, but that’s by appointment only,” said Professor Gaea. “But, if I know _you_ , Rena, you wouldn’t do something so simple.”

“Nothing I do is simple, Auntie. You know me.”

Rena’s voice was bigger, vowels large and echoing in the lab. The tiles were starting to look like a maze of never-ending hexes. Jude traced them with their gaze, sliding one foot over the outline of a few while they followed the rest across the floor.

“Okay,” said Rena. Her feet bounced into Jude’s gaze. “This is about the Pokémon attacks. Plural. We’ve seen a couple. It’s really freaky, Auntie, and we wanted to report it so you can send the rangers after it, maybe see if you can do some research and figure out what’s going on with the Pokémon.”

Jude lifted their gaze, hands in their pockets, just enough to watch the interaction. Professor Gaea stroked her chin, furrowing her brow inside her giant glasses.

“Right, I’m happy to help. Echo!” She called the last word over her shoulder, to the second floor. A moment later, a Beheeyem zipped over the second-storey railing, a tablet floating behind him, and he flew down to hover above Professor Gaea’s shoulder. She took the tablet. “Thank you.”

Jude blinked. So this was the dad. They’d never seen a Beheeyem before. They’d never seen a fully evolved psychic-type before, in fact. Furrowbury wasn’t near any colonies, and Dad had no reason to work with such Pokémon.

They pushed off the couch, circling wide around Rena and the professor to look more closely at Echo.

“Okay, lay it on me. Let me take down some notes,” said Professor Gaea. She believed them? Huh. But Jude’s bitterness was overwhelmed by curiosity. How did a Beheeyem communicate? How different was it from an Elgyem? Beeps seemed to enjoy Jude’s company, but he could have just disliked loud noises and people.

Poor thing.

Echo rotated toward Jude as they neared, head cocked to one side. The rise and fall of Rena’s voice painted a symphony as Jude approached him and he approached Jude. Despite themself, Jude tensed. Pokémon were wondrous, beautiful creatures with boundless curiosity and empathy.

But this was a psychic-type. A fully evolved psychic-type. The things he could do to Jude, if he wanted. If he was trained. If he was ordered.

Jude swallowed.

Echo’s eyes glowed and he lifted one arm out to Jude, only the green light on his hand alight. It blinked, slow and steady, then alternated to yellow, then moved back to green. What did it mean? Maybe a traffic light?

“Echo’s safe,” said Professor Gaea, and Jude jumped. “Owning psychic-types is an incredibly difficult undertaking and the rules are long and finnicky. More than that, I’m not a battler, and I study the connections humanity and Pokémon through our joint socialization.” She smiled at Jude. “He’s the most docile of his kind you’ll ever meet. Never once used a move on a human being. Promise.”

Jude held out their hand closer to Echo and he closed the distance, resting his nubs against their fingertips. A warm glow spread through Jude and they pulled back, a small, curious twist on their lips. Huh. Emotion sharing as a form of communication.

They drew their hand to their chest and cradled it close. “Right.” Spoken to the professor, not to Echo, though their gaze never left his.

“I thought you liked Pokémon,” said Rena, and Jude turned to see her wrinkling her nose. “Jude are you,” she gasped, grinning, “ _prejudiced_?”

Jude bristled. “How about you go fuck yourself?” they snapped. Rena’s eyes went wide.

“I was just kidding,” she protested.

Jude glared, nose wrinkling and teeth grinding. Words wouldn’t come. They forced themself to take a deep breath and close their eyes. Don’t hit a person. Don’t hit a person. Don’t hit a person.

Arceus save them, they wanted to hit a person. The temptation so strong it made their fingers _ache_ for it.

“Whatever,” muttered Jude. “Did you tell her everything, yet?” Dismiss and redirect. Take the fucking hint.

“Almost. Just missing your stuff with the train and the stuff with the Luxray,” said Rena. She cocked her head, furrowing her brow at Jude. Jude ignored her and shifted their body more toward Professor Gaea.

“When I was on the train to Dawnmere, we were waylaid by a group of Parasect attacking the train. Not the people, just the train,” said Jude. “They weren’t acting normal and they weren’t in their usual habitat.” They stared at Professor Gaea’s locket, reaching up to run their thumb over the Fire Stone around their neck.

Their thumb caught a jagged edge. Not sharp enough to cut, just to ground.

“I stopped them,” said Jude. First battle. First blood. First fear. Three weeks ago, now. Battling was easier. The fear remained. “Then, not long before we reached the end of Route One, we encountered a fatally wounded Luxray. She…” Jude stopped. Swallowed. “She’d been attacked. I don’t know by or over what. Territory, I presume. I have her cub, now. She’s not of age to battle.”

Words. Words. Words. Mimic the people you could remember. Let the words fall in whatever way felt natural. Don’t scream.

Astrid, the noise, the Pokémon, the people, this _city._ The events. They all folded and folded and folded into a tight hold that Jude fought against. They pressed their hands to their head and took a deep breath. Necklace. Ran their thumb over the edge of the fire stone over and over.

“Jude?” Rena’s voice. “Hey, are you okay?”

They’d moved, at some point. Leaned against the couch again so they could rest.

“I’m fine,” said Jude, mostly into their hands.

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I said I’m fine!” Harsh, tight. Words as bitter as the taste in their mouth. Rena flinched. Jude looked to the professor. The floor. Her shoes. “What do we do about the attacks?”

Make the routes safe so they could get out of the damn city and never go back. Too many people. Too much noise. The humming of fluorescent lights. The buzz of computers all around. The click-click of machinery. The tick-tock of a clock. Breathing. Beeping. Staring.

Staring had a noise. It always had a noise. Plenty of things had noises.

“Well, we haven’t received any other reports, so there’s only so much we can do,” said the professor. Jude traced the zig-zag lines of her shoes. They looked comfortable. Pastel colours that formed lightning bolts. Fairy-electric, if a Pokémon. “But, I can file these and send out a few rangers into the routes to look for anything odd. We work close together, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

The words settled. She couldn’t do anything.

Jude clenched their hands into the armrest of the couch they leaned against. Pressed their weight into their palms and fingertips until the slight burn reminded them of climbing.

Climbing. They needed to climb. Rex whined against their leg. He put himself between Jude and Rena.

“So you can’t do anything,” said Jude. “Rangers already patrol the routes.”

The professor faltered, voice wobbling a bit as she found her words. “Well, I, uh, without more reports, we’re limited to lower level responses. We’ll do our best to prevent more damage, but we need to gather more data.”

Jude frowned. “Why aren’t we enough? There’s two of us, and Lark saw it too, they’re just tired.”

“We could call them!” Rena held out her phone. “Would that help, Auntie?”

The professor sighed. Movement. Jude didn’t look up. Kept staring at shoes. At Rex as he fluffed up and pressed into them. Warm and getting warmer. He was solid, fluffy, firm. Thank Arceus for Rex.

“No, it wouldn’t,” said the professor. “Frankly, without hard evidence, we can’t do more than patrol. I’m sorry. We’ve had too many false reports in the past to take word of mouth at—”

Jude pushed off the couch and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” called Rena. Footsteps. She jerked into Jude’s view, staring up at them. “Hey! She wasn’t finished.”

“I am,” said Jude, flatly. They stuffed their hands in their pockets. “She can’t do anything and she doesn’t believe us. This is pointless.”

“She’s trying,” said Rena.

Jude shrugged. “I don’t care how hard she _tries_ if she can’t help us.” Jude looked down at Rex. He barked. “She can find her hard evidence on her own. I’m going back to the Pokémon Centre.”

“Don’t be rude,” said Rena. She stepped in front of Jude and Jude shoved passed her, sending her stumbling. “Hey! What is your _problem_?”

Jude threw a glare at Rena. “Mostly? _You._ ”

And they left. Down the street and moving faster. Long legs and longer strides overtaking everyone around them. Was climbing buildings illegal in cities? Who cared.

“Rex? We’re going up,” said Jude. Rex barked and leaped, balancing on Jude’s arm before hopping up and wrapping around their shoulders. Jude got a running start at the nearest building, launched themself, caught the gutter bolt as high up as they could, then leaped up and grabbed a window ledge on the second story.

They kept climbing, moving from building to building as the brick burned beneath their fingers.

The world vanished but the anger remained.

Of course no one believed them.

No one ever had before, so why should they start now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 10 Fact:**  
>  While many social media apps are popular throughout Altera, the most popular of all is the gossip app of Overheard in Altera (OiA). Designed with trainers in mind, all registered trainers are immediately registered into the app to prevent identity fraud. This allows all users of the app to tag trainers, league members, and other officials in pictures, posts, analyses, blog posts, videos, and more. OiA is the place to find information about where Elite Four members and Genevieve are, learn about who has just earned a gym badge, and keep up to date on all the latest gossip and news about your favourite trainers. Some trainers have made a career as route vloggers — trainers who vlog the journey on the routes for everyone to see. Of course, this has also led to a grotesque number of reporters, some of whom respect boundaries, and many of whom will do anything to get the latest scoop.
> 
> **Chapter 11 Fact:**  
>  While trainer licenses are required to journey in any capacity, not all those with a trainer license consider themselves part of the League. Three notable groups within the “trainer” umbrella that are not truly trainers in the traditional sense are: Coordinators, who participate in contests throughout their region; Rangers, who, at age sixteen, have only just begun their training at Ranger school; and Researchers, who are working to become some form of scientific and Pokémon-based researcher in their region.
> 
> Researchers attend a great deal of schooling to join their workforce. However, all field researchers must work under other scientists before they are permitted their own practices. This involves running all their work and ideas by their mentor, helping their mentor with their own work, and asking their mentor for approval in applying for research grants. A junior researcher cannot get a grant without the approval of their mentor.
> 
> Many researchers eventually move on to their own, independent research, but it is not uncommon to find them returning to the labs of their training years to work as partners with their past mentors. Networking is key in the Pokémon research world, whether those within it like it or not. Sharing knowledge and working together helps the world more than isolation.


End file.
